Centuries Deep (Peregrine x catalyst)

The dark-skinned Zamaiya lifted her head from the ropes she was coiling at the sound of footsteps approaching her. Almost instantly, her black eyes locked onto Khelida's approaching figure. There was no unfamiliarity in her eyes as she looked at the oracle, rumors of her presence had long since spread all over the ship, but her fingers still clutched somewhat nervously around the rope for a moment, before she straightened her shoulders to listen to Khelida's request.

As soon as Khelida turned away Zamaiya began to move, heading unerringly towards the ship's wheel. However, she came to an instant halt at the sound of Khelida's voice, turning around with a trace of reluctance. "She'd... ah... be down'n the worship room still. Prayers 'nt done yet."

True to Zamaiya's indication, Storm Priest Ashana was still down in the prayer room, kneeling before the statue of the storm god. Varen's arrival had momentarily interrupted the ritual she had been conducting, but as soon as the man had left the room with Khelida in tow she'd resumed the ritual as though there hadn't been any interruption.

The rest of the crew followed along easily enough. Everyone knew that Ashana and the Captain didn't really get along all that well, and they mostly got by just ignoring each other's presence.

The basic ritual finished several minutes after the captain had left, and most of the crew scattered. Few of their loyalties to the gods went further than what was required to prepare their daily magic. However, both Ashana and Henrika remained in front of the god's statue as the rest of the gathered people left, preparing to continue with the full ceremony that would last for almost another hour.
 
Khelida thanked the sailing apprentice before taking leave. Back down in the ritual room, all had left - including Myran - except Henrika and her mentor, the Storm priest. Both were still praying, a testament showing how truly devoted they were. Knowing fully well how long the ceremony could last and not having completed her own morning prayer, the Oracle quietly sat a comfortable space away and closed her eyes.

As her posture relaxed and she began letting go of all other thoughts, the strangest thing happened. A loud caw, the call of a hawk, sounded from above. It was as clear a sound as any, and yet she appeared to be the only one who heard it. Or perhaps did not tune it out? Birds and environmental noises hardly, if ever, interrupted praying... but this did not feel like a typical noise. It almost felt like a redirection.

The bulk of the next hour proved fruitless. Khelida didn't know what it was, but she could not make a connection to the Goddess of Life. Was it this room, the people, the ship itself? Though it hardly made sense, as she had always been able to connect no matter who or what surrounded her. Something was blocking her.

With one last deep breath, the Oracle slowly opened her eyes and waited patiently for the other women to finish.

Henrika was the first. It was when she turned that she saw Khelida and gasped. "Oh! It's you! Well, of course it would be you - nobody else ever joins us for that long, unless they had a late morning."

Khelida smiled politely, but spoke quietly so as not to completely ignore the rest of the priest's ceremony. "The captain requested my presence before I could pray. It seems that worked a little in my favor, with not so many people around."
 
Unexpectedly, Ashana and Henrika's prayers were interrupted before they were done.

From above, muffled slightly from the layers of wood came a shout. "Riggers on deck!" The Barracuda was preparing to set sail.

Henrika's head immediately snapped up, causing Ashana to frown. Henrika smiled sheepishly, before spotting Khelida and greeting her warmly. "Prayer room is usually pretty quiet," Henrika agreed. "I can't say the lot of this crew is a particularly faithful bunch, and some even less so than that."

That earned another frown from Ashana, who was met only moments later by Henrika's pleading gaze. The dark-skinned woman sighed heavily. "Fine. Go. But you'll be making up ever minute of it double tomorrow!"

"Thank you!" Henrika replied, lunging forward to briefly hug her mentor, who looked equal parts uncomfortable and resigned. A moment later and she was on her feet, racing out of the room to scamper up to the main deck.

Ashana let out another world-weary sigh, her eyes lingering wistfully on Storm's statue. However, a moment later and her eyes turned away, glancing over at Khelida. "There's no statue of life on this boat, never has been," she said, sounding vaguely disapproving of the matter. However, her eyes, when placed upon the Oracle, were kind and soft. "So I doubt you needed to complete your prayers down here. Did you wish to talk to me, dear?"
 
Khelida smiled a goodbye to the ever-eager Storm apprentice and waited patiently for Ashana. Hearing only so little about her, she was curious if a connection could be made past true faith.

If there were friendships to be made along this journey, it never hurt to start with the easiest and least tense.

"Many would say you never really need statues to pray," she quipped, though there was truth in it. "I did wish to speak with you. Your name is Ashana? If you're comfortable sharing, I would like to hear about your experience on this ship and its captain." The oracle paused as she looked briefly to the devil statues, then back to the priest. "It doesn't have to be here." Though she held no belief in these devils' existence, she wasn't sure how keen the ship's ears were. Varen himself had taken them to his private quarters to ensure no eavesdropping. It was no secret trait that he was a private man, considering his own crew didn't know the purpose of their current journey.

Which was partly why she sought out Ashana. Depending on how long she'd been part of the crew, perhaps she uncovered something that could help explain the eerie mystery that was the Barracuda.
 
At the mention of the boat's 'captain', Ashana's lips momentarily pressed into a thin, disapproving line. However, she did not say or even do anything further. Instead, she merely sighed. "It's only natural that you're curious," she agreed, voice slightly subdued compared to the more warm and motherly atmosphere she'd initially used to greet Khelida. "I cannot say that I know everything there is to know. I doubt anyone can claim that except the Captain himself. But I'll share what I do know, or at least what I speculate."

Moving somewhat slowly, as though her knees were paining her, Ashana stood up from where she'd been kneeling in front of the statue. "My quarters are not that far from yours," Ashana continued. "We can talk there."

The woman led the way out of the room, before climbing up two sets of ladders to reach the quarter deck. She held the door open for Khelida, before heading down the narrow hallway, passing several doors—including Khelida's new quarters—with a plodding sort of familiarity that spoke of distaste mingled with resignation. A moment later, and she invited Khelida through a heavy door.

Ashana's quarters were larger than Khelida and Myran's, especially considering that almost all of their free space had been taken up by a second bed. Ashana's was large enough to fit her bed against the back length of the wall. The base of the bed was filled with drawers, while the entire left wall was filled with cabinets. Judging by the smell of the room, a mix of dried herbs, wax, and paper, they contained all the materials a dedicated priest would need during a long voyage. The floor was covered in a surprisingly plush brown and red rug, pattered with geometric hawks on a diamond background. To the right, a wide desk was anchored against the wall, a single wooden chair neatly tucked into the hollow.

Ashana moved over to the desk, pulling it out and turning it around to face the bed. She politely gestured for Khelida to sit, before settling herself on the edge of her bed. Due to the height of the drawers, her toes dangled several inches off the floor, but she crossed her legs neatly, resting her hands on her knees.

"Before I begin, may I ask you to tell me what you already know, or, at least, what legends you've heard? That way I don't risk repeating information."
 
Ashana's warm demeanor noticeably lessened at Khelida's question, but she did not take it personally. The Storm Priest was willing to talk to her still, so it must have simply been the topic. It wasn't quite so hard for a person of faith to dislike Varen or the crew in general, and that could easily lead to shared animosity, but Khelida was hoping Ashana could shed light beneath the surface.

"Whatever you can share," the Oracle confirmed. "I would appreciate it." She followed the other woman to her quarters, which was rather large compared to her and Myran's. And it was probably the most comforting atmosphere Khelida experienced so far.

Sitting on the designated chair, posture perfect as always, the Oracle clasped her hands in her lap. "I've heard many things in my travels," she began. "A ghost ship, an undead crew kept alive by devil worshipping, usually both... but it appears none of that is true, save the devil-worshipping." She cocked her head slightly as she continued, "I did hear, when my ship was attacked, that the Barracuda's skeleton was here. Its colors had changed. And has since changed."

The Oracle paused for just a moment to collect her thoughts. "As mysterious as the ship is, though, the captain is much more so. There is something there that I have yet to see."
 
Ashana couldn't help but laugh slightly at Khelida's description of the myths, although it was dry and slightly strained. "Yes, mysterious is one word for it. Unnatural would likely be another. After all, you see, the rumors are not entirely without precident. Although such a fate does not extend to the rest of the crew, for better or worse there is no denying that the Captain is immortal."

Ashana's arms folded protectively across her chest, as though trying to shield herself from some unknown, unseen influence. All the same, she maintained a firm eye contact with Khelida, continuing to speak in a resolute manner. "The man is mad, for it's not like he goes to any effort to hide it. I've seen his entire body stitch itself back together like someone wound the clock backwards after he took a cannonball straight to the chest. Everyone on this ship is firmly under his control, because those who weren't have long since been beheaded or thrown overboard, and none can threaten his rule. How could you, when any attempt at mutiny would end up with everyone except him dead?"

Ashana shivered slightly, clearly uncomfortable with the entire scenario. "I know it must seem strange, but anyone here could tell you the same without question. Better yet, you can go ask the bo's'n after this. Near half a century he's been serving on this ship, the whole time under the same captain."
 
"... Although such a fate does not extend to the rest of the crew, for better or worse there is no denying that the Captain is immortal."

Khelida's curiosity visibly peaked, but her initial reaction was bafflement. An immortal being living on earth? It was completely unheard of for a reason.

But... Ashana appeared uncomfortable and earnest. As if she wasn't simply repeating a rumor. She, a Storm Priest, was claiming that she saw Varen physically alter his body, saw him evade death. It was her credibility on the line. But apparently not just hers.

"If the whole crew knows he's 'immortal,'" Khelida couldn't help the disbelief in her tone, "why has no one said anything?" There had been plenty of opportunities: Giana, Chosovi, Henrika... even in the group - a setting most inclined towards gossip - during mealtime! Perhaps she misinterpreted, but Ashana made it sound as if it was common knowledge, of which no one would have issue discussing.
 
"Is that the first think you'd discuss with the kidnapped Oracle of a church you may not even trust?" Ashana shook her head, a trace of sympathy in her eyes as she studied the Oracle. "Did they seem nice to you? Honest and friendly? Never forget, this is a pirate ship. And everyone who's loyal to her and her captain has their hands stained with blood. Even my apprentice, god save her soul. She'd stab a knife into your heart without hesitation should the captain..."

For a moment, Ashana's eyes were filled with pain, and she cut herself off mid-sentence. Only after a moment's silence did Ashana resume speaking again, licking her lips.

"I understand your doubt. I felt much the same myself, when I first heard the news. You do not need to take my word for it now, should you wish. You will surely find your own evidence in short order." The dark-skinned priest shuddered again, but finally unfolded her arms from where they had been protectively cradling her bosom. Her eyes momentarily drifted up towards the ceiling, staring up towards where the captain's cabin would be located.

"For many here, it is a fact of life, in the same manner that the ocean is wet. Just... be glad you have someone answering your questions sufficiently in advance." Ashana's lips tightened momentarily into a severe line, but the expression wasn't directed towards Khelida. In fact, she seemed far more nervous and frustrated than upset. "After all, the Captain is no subject for idle conversation. Not unless you're willing to gamble on whether or not he's in a good mood, should he happen to overhear you."
 
  • Sweet
Reactions: catalyst
So many questions the Oracle had, but she caught the pained look in the Priest's eyes. As she took a steadying breath, the questions settled in the background. How vulnerable was this person in front of her? She wasn't sure if Ashana had been hurt by anyone in the crew, including the captain, but Khelida wouldn't pry unless she wanted to discuss it. Perhaps there was only fear of what the future held.

"I do appreciate you extending this and whatever else you may come across." Khelida leaned forward, reassuringly touched Ashana's knee, and attempted to hold her gaze. It was a gesture of good faith; if they were to trust anyone, it was each other. For the Storm Priest did have a point: as nice and... welcoming as some in the crew may have been, the Barracuda didn't seem to be the type of ship to be nonchalant about disloyalty. And Ashana was the only one to be completely forthright with her.

The Oracle straightened. "The crew apparently knows next to nothing about why I was their target, and the captain would rather pick my brain for what I know than tell me anything." Like he knew that she must have been encouraged by the gods to board the ship. "But, I wonder if you've heard anything - even the smallest whisper?"
 
Ashana's wavering gaze steadied slightly as the weight of Khelida's hand rested against her knee. She offered the Oracle a small smile, before taking a short breath and continuing to speak. "I'm sorry. I wish I could offer you some information on the matter, but I am in the dark. Most of the people onboard, myself included, didn't even know we'd be boarding your ship until she appeared on the horizon."

Seeming dissatisfied with her own answer, Ashana sighed and kneaded the corner of one eye with the tip of her finger. "The only people who know anything beyond the day-to-day of the ship would be the Officers. Of them, the only ones who might tell you anything are Errik, the bo's'n I mentioned earlier, Dahlia, the ship's master gunner, and Simun, the helmsman. They're the only ones who I would call friendly, although the term may not be... quite accurate. At least they'd rather talk with you than stab you. Even then, there's no guarantee they know anything."

Ashana licked her lips, momentarily rubbing the fabric of her tunic between her fingers in a simple, comforting manner. "I wish I could be more helpful. Do you have any other questions? I'll do my best to answer them, if I can."
 
"Most of the people onboard, myself included, didn't even know we'd be boarding your ship until she appeared on the horizon."

Well, Cadan and Souta hadn't lied about that. The why and how of the Captain knowing about the merchant's brig remained. Yet, as long as Khelida could dwell on it, it was pointless. Whether it was betrayal or divine intervention, she accepted that she may never have the answer.

"Simun..." She repeated, then paused. "Is there someone else with a similar name? There was a man I... wounded with a dagger, and I've heard the story spread amongst the crew. One repeated Simun's name, but I could have sworn it was different." She'd hate to lose one of the few tolerant-of-Life crewmates over it, but... well, Myran's life had been on the line.
 
"Simun...?" Ashana repeated unconsciously, her brow furrowed in thought. However, as she listened to Khelida's words, realization seemed to dawn on her. "No, that was... Samiel."

Ashana spat out his name with a level of distaste as of yet unheard in their conversation. Her nose slightly wrinkled as she finished the name, as though it had left a bad taste in her mouth.

"The ship's battle master, not that I've ever heard of such a rank on any other ship, and the Captain's fanatic follower. If there's anyone on board who would stab you for absolutely no reason, it would be him. He's also one of the most fervent devil-worshippers on board the ship. A true heretic if ever there was one."

Ashana's voice dropped slightly as she spoke, her voice filled with righteous indignation. "Stay away from him if you can. He's a madman, and no one on this ship is capable of controlling him other than the Captain. Not to mention I wouldn't be surprised if he has it out for you for injuring him."

Ashana paused for a moment, before seeming to recall where Khelida's question had originated. "No, Simun is a tall, blond man. Big arms, dark eyes, looks like someone sculpted his jawline out of iron. He spends most of his time up at the helm when the ship is sailing, so he won't be hard to meet."
 
She had injured one of the most dangerous people on the ship - not that Khelida wouldn't do it again since it very likely saved Myran's life. But it was clear how damaging that particular interaction between her and Samiel was. Although Ashana made it sound as if the Captain had the so-called "battle-master" on a leash, how taut did he keep it? For now, the best path seemed to be avoidance of Samiel. Perhaps even of Varen, if Khelida could help it.

After sharing only a few words more, the Oracle left the room feeling rather... unsettled. An immortal pirate captain? A crew of loyal heretics? The notion of immortality itself was foolish - no, blasphemous. No matter how determined some were to make it a reality, their beliefs and subsequent actions were dismissed by the will of society. There was no truth of immortality in Life's doctrine and no evidence in the real world to support it. Khelida was not so seasoned a traveler as Varen or his crew, but she had seen enough.

But why had Ashana promised such evidence?

No, Khelida wouldn't amuse the idea further. Why would Life push her to help him if he was the antithesis? All she could assume was that their meeting was divine intervention. She did not know how Varen came to find her, but her vision was guidance from Life, and she had to trust that. It was the only thing that made sense.

------
The next two weeks nearly felt like a lifetime. As the Barracuda set north according to Khelida's coordinates, the crew was busy with new instructions to ensure no delay, taking extra care to sort through inventory, food, and repairs. The Oracle mostly kept to herself, as was her fashion, even when she joined others. With high reverence came historically high protection, but even when she had people serving her, her hands didn't go unspoiled. Whether people expected it or not, when prayers ended and the whole day was left open, she would quietly work where needed.

Much of it now was basic, daily chores considering there was little else to do if the help was not welcome. Menial things. It started with helping Giana haul rope. From there, she met Davina, a coquettish redhead, and Siavash, a man who Khelida approached first when it looked like the crew was piling the work on him - namely from Trey. Apparently, that was the norm for Siavash, but he took no qualms with it. Sima, his wife, quipped that he didn't know when a line was crossed unless that line was a brick wall.

Once or twice she entertained Henrika's eager requests for stories of the faith. There was the occasional pinprick due to sewing orders from the tailor Beyza - which led to a couple of deliveries to a hunter with sad eyes named Hayri. But there were also callouses. Bruises and scratches from past sparring, adventuring...

Yes, they were signs she could handle herself, to at least some degree. No, she wasn't quite a lady no matter how much the title of Oracle may claim her or how badly some wished to treat her so. Not that she had to prove anything with the story of her and Samiel still going around.

While Khelida did attempt to put names to faces she came across and observed, it was much less direct than Myran's style. The guardian was quite happy to join Giana's band once she felt comfortable enough - which only took one night's worth of liquid courage. The cheery redhead was usually welcomed much quicker than her counterpart, and that was because most people didn't associate her so closely with Life.

Eventually, word spread of them docking at Clain Cyra, but only for how long it took to resupply. Many were tempted to drag out their time as much as possible since they were dreading the end-goal of Venkashta, but they also did not want to piss off their captain. Perhaps a handful out of those felt comfortable enough to dance the line.

"I cannot wait to set foot on some solid land. See new faces. Maybe even taste fresh, new food?" Myran grasped her hands in front of her chest like a prayer, optimism shining in her eyes as her and Khelida looked out to the horizon where a stretch of land was coming into view.

"That is, if the Captain even lets us off this ship," Khelida remarked. Myran gave her a look.

"I don't see why he wouldn't." Khelida gave her a look of her own.
 
Under the firm urging of her officers and with a fair wind in her sails, the Barracuda traveled with almost unprecedented speed. The crew, which was used to moving somewhat lazily across the azure oceans when they weren't in pursuit of a boarding target, found themselves on constant rotation that kept the helm manned and the lines crewed through night and day. It was clear that the ship was on a mission, although what exactly that mission was became a subject for much discussion among the crew at first.

It was impossible not to speculate that it had something to do with the Oracle they’d kidnapped, but beyond that common point there were almost no common theories between the crew. Some dared to speculate that they were taking her somewhere to sell her off, while others quietly whispered about whether she’d managed to convert one of the ship’s officers. Some even guessed she’d received a prophecy of some sort from the Goddess of Life, although why exactly that would lead to the Barracuda sailing with such speed led to another round of heated debate.

Of course, the crew kept their heads calm and their tongues still when it came to actually being in close proximity to the aforementioned Oracle. None of them dared ask her if she had any idea what was going on in the same way that they would not ply their captain with similar questions. It was asking for a beating, or worse.

As for their captain, his presence had unexpectedly faded away from the crew’s attention. It was normal to see him moving about the ship, perched on a few of his various viewing locations. Of course, he’d disappear for stretches of time, but since the day they’d set sail at such a vigorous pace, the crew hadn’t even caught sight of him receiving food from the Cook’s Apprentice Kaisek. The rumors grew more wild, and more softly spoken.

But, after the first several days, the rumors began to fade away. It wasn’t because the crew grew weary of their game of speculation, but because the crew was simply tired. Under casual sail, there were more than enough people on board to keep the Barracuda manned. But as the shifts ran round the clock, there was still other work that needed to be done on board. Much of the crew began to sleep during the time they would normally spend socializing. Even the officers began to join in on hauling ropes and setting the sails.

Therefore, an undisguised cry of relief went up on board when they caught sight of the lighthouse marking the edge of the city of Reyes’ coastal waters. Errik had already stated that the ship would need to stop and resupply at the city if they intended to sail for another several days. The weariness was replaced with excitement to get on solid ground again, even if only for a while.

Finally, the red-roofed buildings that were one of the distinguishing features of Clain Cyra architecture came into sight, standing out from the forested green hills and the dark grey stone of the city’s cliffsides. The crew quickly moved into position, preparing to head down the inlet that led to the city’s bay.

Standing at the wheel, Simun glanced backwards when he heard a door swing open behind him. A moment later, the dark portal released Varen onto the deck. The man squinted slightly at the sudden rush of sunlight, his fingers reaching up to scratch unconsciously at the thick, dark beard that had grown on his face.

“Chief,” Simun said warmly, large hands momentarily clenching around the handles of the wheel. “We’ll be docking in less than half an hour.”

Varen nodded slightly. “We’ll be here for exactly four hours, just as long as it takes to purchase supplies and get them loaded. The crew can visit the city at will, so long as Errik doesn’t need them for resupply. But anyone who isn’t on board when we leave gets left behind. No exceptions.”

Simun glanced over his shoulder again, one brow raised and a playful smile on his lips. “Including the Oracle?”

Varen snorted. “She stays on the ship. I don’t want to have to go hunting her down if she decides this is a good moment to try and get away. Make sure someone has an eye on her at all times. Samiel would be a good place to start.”

Faint laughter followed Varen's words. "I'm sure they'll both love that arrangement," Simun replied, still grinning broadly.

Varen waved him away. "I don't care who it is, so long as someone keeps a close eye on her. Just get us docked."

"Sure thing, Chief."
 
"You really don't think he'd let us go, even with... supervision?" Myran shuttered dramatically at the word, but freedom was a give-and-take ordeal at this point, and she would happily chain herself to one of the crew if it meant she got to explore a bit.

"I would bet money on it. Look, Myran," Khelida nodded towards the island, "that isn't exactly a small island village." It wouldn't be easy to outmaneuver the crew in an escape attempt, but the bigger the town, the easier it was to hide. Myran frowned, disappointed in the Oracle's answer as everyone around them prepared to dock. She turned to survey the deck when she spotted a familiar head of brown locks and gauged ears. The red-head visibly brightened.

"Trey! Hey!" Myran called out as she crossed the deck and reached for his arm. Trey, carrying a load of tools for maintenance checks, smiled and paused.

"Hey Myran, and, um... your Oracle-ness," he dipped his head in a slight bow as Khelida caught up. She found the young man's sheepishness amusing, but only dipped her head in return. "What's up?"

"Well, we're docking, right? That means we can get off, too?" Bright-eyed and perky, Myran was oh-so ever working her charm on the poor lad. Though this wasn't the first charm Khelida witnessed. There had been a lot of stolen glances and not-so-subtle flirting in the past several days.

"Oh, I wouldn't know nothin' 'bout that," Trey countered playfully. "That's up to the captain, you know that."

"Of course, of course," Myran waved as she took a step closer. "But it would help our case if someone were to volunteer to escort us around, don't ya think?" Clasped hands behind her back, she batted her eyelashes and Trey slowly but surely smiled. As if on cue, the ship's sailing master rounded near the group.

"I was looking for you lot," Simun greeted.

"Siiimun, hey. Does that mean you've heard from the captain? These ladies were hoping they'd be free to explore Clain Cyra," Trey nearly finished, until Myran nudged him with her elbow. "That is, with me escorting them, of course."

Simun clicked his tongue. "Trey, you are always on the verge of being utterly useless. There's a reason why you're never asked to help load our most valuable, eh... findings." Trey feigned a hurt expression but Simun shrugged matter-of-factly.

"Please, Simun? We've never been in these parts before. I'd love to see the island."

"Chief doesn't want you two leaving this ship."

Khelida looked to Myran with an "I told you so" look, but she didn't dare give the Oracle the satisfaction of meeting that gaze. "So... you'll be responsible for us, I'm hoping?" She squinted her eyes and raised her brows.

"'Fraid not. Much to everyone's pleasure, that honor lies with Samiel."

Myran, defeated, brought her fingers to her forehead until Trey nudged her as he began to leave. "Don't worry, love. I'll find ya a souvenir, yeah?"
 
Reyes was not the capital city of Clain Cyra, but it was one of the best known trade cities in the nation. It's proximity to some of the major trade routes made it a convenient stopping point to any of the countries north of here, and it was only a short way off the major Middle Ocean trade routes. Worthy of its name as the Trade City, Reyes had built up extensively, the most notable fortification being the massive bridge gate that guarded the entrance to the harbor. The entire body of water could be blocked off by a spiked metal net that would tear apart any ship that ran into it.

The crew of the Barracuda passed under the bridge without concern, swarming up the masts to pull up all but one sail. Several crewmates lined the railing, tossing the ropes down to sailors who were waiting on the edge of the dock to tie down the Barracuda before she could drift away. A moment later the gangway was lowered in place and the crew began to race off the ship one after another.

From the quarter deck, Samiel's blue eyes roamed lazily across the surface of the deck. It didn't take more than a moment for him to spot Myran’s bright, cherry-colored hair among the crew, and the Oracle at her side. Samiel began to lazily stroll down the stairs in their direction, looking as though he’d like nothing more than for them to try and make a break for it.

However, a moment later he was standing next to them, leaning casually against the railing. He watched the crew that was already scattering across the dock, while a few of them gathered around the dark-skinned Errik, who was issuing orders unintelligible due to the distance. On the side of the ship, Simun could be seen talking to someone who was dressed like an official, a high blue collar around his neck to indicate his rank.

For a moment, there seemed to be something like a trace of sorrow or regret in Samiel’s eyes as he watched the rest of the cheerful crew, but a moment later he offered Myran and Khelida his signature lazy smile. “I don’t really care what you do for the next several hours, as long as you don’t try and leave the boat. Deal?”



On the far side of the dock, a comfortable covered carriage was making its way along the boardwalk. However, unlike traditional carriages pulled by horses, this small carriage was only large enough for at most two people to sit in, and was pulled by two sturdy looking men.

The person sitting inside the carriage was a heavy-set man, his black hair already starting to grey, cheeks slightly rounded with his weight. His equally dark eye scanned lazily over the harbor, seemingly out of boredom. A servant walking to the side of the slowly moving rickshaw approached with a glass of cool water, which the man received and began to sip slowly.

However, a moment later, his eyes snapped back to a light colored ship, trimmed with blue and gold. Or, more specifically, to a woman with dark, curly hair on the bannister.

“Stop!” the man commanded, half rising from where he was sitting. The rickshaw immediately stopped, the two pulling men glancing backwards in surprise. However, their passenger completely disregarded their curiosity, instead squinting in the direction of the ship as though trying to bring it into clearer detail. However, the moment a red-haired woman entered into his sight from behind a skinny, brown-haired man, his mouth dropped open slightly.

“Oracle Khelida…?” he mumbled slightly, before his head snapped to the two pulling men. “Change of plans. Take me to the Church.”

To his side, the servant flinched slightly in surprise. “But sir, you’re meeting with Tiarnag Felan begins in…”

“I said there was a change of plans. The Tiarnag will have to understand. Take me to the Church. Now.”
 
Last edited:
"I still don't understand the magic that's being used here," Myran mumbled under her breath to Khelida, the crew busying themselves as the ship came to a slow halt. In response, Khelida gave a brief hum. Although they had long since been under the guise of a merchant ship, the source of magic still evaded them. The most likely scenario was that it was a blessing from Hunt, but even then... the Oracle was doubtful, especially after her talk with the Storm Priest.

Samiel, guard dog for the time being, soon was at their side and left no room for Khelida to speak more to her thoughts.

"You sure 'bout that?" Myran countered as she eyed the man. "Don't you want to join everyone? I'm sure we could be of help out there." One last attempt, even if it meant getting assigned to some foul chore. Even the thought of smelling fresh bread baking was enough to nearly drive her mad.

Samiel rose a brow. "And who would keep an eye on me?" A hand rose to gesture towards himself. "The only reason I'm here is because I can't leave the ship either." He placed hands on his hips, but it was a very mild act of authority in the Oracle's eyes.

"Why not?" She asked. It was a direct question, but she knew not to expect a direct answer. Myran, who had a mischievous expression dancing across her face, leaned in to whisper. However, neither managed to get a word out when they were interrupted by Souta.

"Oy! No use standin' around when there's much to do," he said as a friendly reminder. Khelida met his eyes briefly before looking back at Samiel, but it was clear he wasn't answering. For now, at least.

To keep the energetic one busy, Khelida fixed wide-brimmed hats on both their heads.

"Does that mean if we leave the ship, he couldn't follow?" Myran finally asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"I would like to know as much as you," the older woman replied. "Let's not test it, though. We don't need to give him another reason to stab us."

Myran was placed with a cleaning group while Khelida went to help inspect the ropes. While she didn't think the Captain really cared how they spent their time aboard, the crew members that at least tolerated their presence appreciated the extra hands. And in this way, if they truly could not leave the ship, it would at least help pass the time.

----

It was rather quiet after the initial excitement of porting died down and the chatty crew scattered in town. For a long while, it was just the sound of waves, occasionally broken by orders barked between the few left behind. Now, however, they were joined by the near-silent footsteps of five, clad in white and yellow.

"Are you sure this is okay? Even though we had no word of the Oracle visiting, will she forgive our tardiness?" Whispers from a woman with hair dark as night passed to the Priest.

"She is not one to be plagued by impatience - though don't fret if the crew gives you a hard time," he replied. The woman, a novice clergy member at best, chewed nervously on her lower lip as the group neared the gangway. They did not have to wait long before being greeted - nothing like a group of Life followers to grab pirates' attention.

"G'day! How may I help you?" Simon called from above. No need to raise alarms yet.

"We've come to greet Oracle Khelida," the Priest replied as he put on a polite smile. "We apologize profusely for our lateness. We simply were not expecting her."
 
Last edited:
Resupplying a ship was never a quick affair, especially not when they were preparing for a long voyage. However, there were plenty of shops around the port area that were geared towards facilitating that exact process. Therefore, by the time the five white-robed priests of the Church of Life arrived on the dock, some of the most critical supplies—barrels filled with water, boxes of hardtack, and bags of dried beans—were already stacked at the Barracuda's edge, and the enlisted crew members were transporting it up and down the gangplank.

Of course, many of them noticed the instant the Priests arrived nearby. The instant the chef Galijah noticed their arrival, a frown crossed his face. He quickly hoisted two bags of lentils over his shoulder, before disappearing into the forecastle. However, very few of the other crewmembers reacted to their arrival. Few of them may like the Church of Life, but that didn't mean they'd flee on site.

However, the discomfort of the crew quickly began to rise the instant the group of five stopped in front of their ship. And then the atmosphere turned positively icy the moment the Priest spoke.

"What!" One of the resupply crew, a scarred man with a half-shaven beard, let out a noise somewhere between a growl and a yelp. However, he instantly fell silent when the dark-skinned botswain nailed him with a frown and a glare.

Errik glanced up at the blond haired Simon. However, despite the helmsman's rather languid look, Errik seemed to instantly pick up on the fact that something was wrong. The grey-haired man stepped forward, physically blocking the way up onto the ship.

"Did y'not think that there might be good reason you didn' know that the Oracle is passing by?" Errik stated, the frown on his face only growing more pronounced. None of the crew had discussed how they would handle an unexpected visit from the Church to visit the Oracle—the Oracle they had just forcibly snatched from her ship. After all, this was nothing but a quick resupply. The band of pirates had visited more dangerous locations than Reyes, and gotten away scot free.

However, years aboard the ship, many of those in a position of leadership, had given Errik a level of wiles above and beyond the rest of the crew, and his attempt to mitigate the damage hardly seemed as desperate as it probably should have been. "Leave now, 'fore the wrong group of people sees you."
 
The priest's polite smile faltered for a mere second. "Are you, perhaps, the bosun? I understand your crew must be very busy. Please, pardon the intrusion. I simply haven't seen Oracle Khelida in so long..."

Meanwhile, a quick pair of feet crossed the ship's deck and disappeared below, orange hair the last to be seen. Further and further they went until they reached the cargo hold and shuffled between other bodies before, finally, finding the Oracle. "Khelida!"

Said woman turned towards the carrier's voice, though her eyes remained focused on the puzzle that was organizing the latest haul. "You'll never believe it - a priest is here." At this, Khelida met the pair of widened hazel.

"Here?"

"Yes'm. Talkin' to Errik the last I saw. Here for you!"

Khelida's brows furrowed in confusion while other bodies in the room shifted. As far as everyone knew, including herself, no one knew that the Oracle and her guardian were aboard this ship.

"What does this priest look like? Does the Captain know?"

"Uh... fat and aging? But I'm sure the Captain will soon if Errik can't get rid of him." There was a hint of something in Davina's voice that Khelida picked up on, but couldn't quite name. "It's not just one though, there's a whole handful of 'em." She could feel all gazes grow heavy on her form.

But a handful? She highly doubted they were simply investigating her presence; the freckled beauty before her made it seem as if they called her by name. Such a number usually meant a formality... had they recognized her when they first docked?

Khelida half-expected someone to halt her from exposing herself further. After all, somebody recognizing her here? At best, it meant they knew where she was; at worst, it meant a chance for her to escape.

But not a word was spoken as she left the hold. It was only after that Sima broke the silence with a warning. "One day that pot you stir is going to boil over. A mess and a burn - that's all you'll get."

Davina scrunched her nose and smiled. "Oh, c'mon, Sima. Don't scold me like that when you know you wanna see what happens next." She glanced to the exit, egging on the darker-skinned woman. Sima followed the glance with her own eyes before pursing her lips as if that was the only form of resistance she had in her.

Outside, Errik's warning was still being tested as Khelida slowly approached, wiping her hands clean as best she could. She saw the irritation bulging from the old man's temple, though it thankfully seemed nothing had escalated beyond mild tension. She took a breath to relax before she came into view of all, and her face warmed with a smile as she saw the Priest leading the group.

"Priest Fernando! Oh my, it's been quite a while, hasn't it? What's brought you here to Reyes?"