We boarded the Waves of Grass shortly before dawn, with a chill breeze echoing up the roaring surf towards us. The ship was masterfully built, and Captain Shalvar had a crew of goblins (apparently he had some difficulty finding Eladrin who were of a seagoing nature) that tended the vessel. Her two sloping masts boasted sails of light green canvas, and the entire ship had the scent of a pine forest about it.
As we did, our hands on the railing were each quickly pricked by a thorn that sprang from the surface.
“That serves to seal our agreement, travelers. The fey pact between us is now binding. Welcome aboard.”
As it turned out, Shalvar and his vessel maintained a somewhat closer relationship than one would normally expect of a ship master. This ship is carved – no, scratch that, it is grown – from a single tree, and that tree is inhabited by a dryad. Shalvar is wed to her, and they are an inseparable pair. The ship constantly grows thorns, flowers, and leaves according to the lady’s mood, and the goblin’s primary duty is to keep the vessel tended of excessive growth, as she is fully capable of sailing herself.
Within the first day, both Bingo and Sered had exhausted their supply of clean clothes, vomiting repeatedly upon themselves and each other. The stench belowdecks had become so vile that I took to sleeping on the prow, unrolling my travel mattress beneath the stars there. Although my stomach is not as iron-clad as Karac’s, the motion does not bother me so much. Being below with the two puking wonders, however, would set me off as surely as they compound each others’ misery.
Sybarron was strangely silent with me here. I initially suspected that he did not feel comfortable on the water, or that perhaps he had some compulsion against the Eladrin captain.
On the eve of the second day of the voyage, Shalvar called us all to the deck. Arriving there, he pointed off to the port bow, where we saw the makings of a great storm passing over the water in the otherwise clear sky. Lightning danced in a variety of hues among the cloud tops, and before long I saw a winged silhouette passing among them. From this distance, its size must have truly been magnificent, though for all its beauty I wished I had not seen it here. Being on the surface of what was undoubtedly a very deep ocean was unsettling enough…being beset by a flying beast while on it would surely be the death of us all.
“That is Vasylim,” Shalvar told us. “It is he who gives this sea its name – the Sea of Scales. All captains who ply these waters leave tribute to him on the shores of the islands called Vasylim’s Teeth.”
Karac didn’t take his eyes from the flying beast. “So it is a dragon?”
“Indeed, a very great one.”
“How do you know he receives this tribute?” Karac stuck both thumbs into his belt and looked skeptical. “Surely pirates might simply snatch it up from the shore as you depart. And how does he know which ships have paid up?”
“I don’t know how he comes to the knowledge of which ship has paid their tithe, but I would guess he can smell the odor of the ship on the offerings, and judges by nose – if it is a ship that smells unfamiliar to him, very likely that ship will never be seen again.”
Karac didn’t look convinced.
As they spoke, the beast folded its wings tightly to it, and dove, like a pelican, into the water beneath the churning storm clouds. Moments later, his great pinions erupted again, flapping to take the creature from the water. In its hind claws it dragged something from the water, perhaps the size of a small orca. I did not want to consider what would happen to this ship if it dove such an attack on us.
Karac saw this, and spoke up, his voice living up to his surname with what I suspect was a case of drymouth similar to my own at seeing this display of power.
“And you are paid up for this year, I hope?”
Shalvar smiled slightly, and nodded. “Yes, I am. Better to not invite additional trouble, there’s plenty to go around on this ocean as it is.”
He parted from us then, leaving us to observe the storm as it passed away into the distance. The wind was dying down, and felt as though the ocean was becoming becalmed. The others retreated belowdecks. I thought I could hear Sered moaning a little, but that might have been my imagination.
I was going to head for my bedroll, but saw that Shalvar was already at the bow of the vessel, and he had company. A lovely Eladrin lady, clad in a diaphanous robe, was speaking with him with quiet urgency. I left them to their talk – better not to offer a woman an excuse to take offense at me, and particularly not if she was the soul of our transport.
A short while later, she vanished, and I returned to bed down for the night. I smoked half of one of my cigars dug from its box, and considered all I’d seen today.
In the morning, after attending to my lavatory and cleaning, Shalvar was at the wheel of the ship at the aft deck. I and Karac found ourselves there with him, and Dex stood a casual distance away at the railing, watching us all.
Shalvar’s arm on the wheel was deceptive, for as he spoke to us and removed himself from it, the wheel seemed to turn randomly…his lady was apparely far more in control of the vessel than he cared to let anyone know. The air was calm, and as I suspected, we were in glass-smooth waters, making no forward progress at all.
“Had I known what you carry, I don’t think I would have agreed to take you aboard, travelers.” Shalvar looked somewhat angry as he said this. “Bringing such a force on board is most upsetting to Ereliya.”
“What are you referring to?” I asked.
He nodded to me and pointed at Sybarron. “That. Apparently he has been talking Ereliya’s ear off, and she does not appreciate his conversation in the slightest.”
I looked down to the hilt of my sword. “Well, that certainly explains his quiet with me.” What could they be talking about?
Karac looked over at me. “What is he talking about?”
“My blade, it is, after a fashion, alive.”
“What?”
“It contains the soul of a being that displeased the Winter Court of the fey, who cursed him to this form until he satisfies their demands. More than that, I think would be more information than he would be comfortable to have me divulge.”
“Ohh, well we can’t have you upsetting his delicate sensibilities, now can we?” Karac’s sarcasm was palpable in the air. “Would you mind telling it to shut its little mouth and not upset the one thing between us and a watery grave any more?”
“We will have words, though I don’t know what he could be saying that would be so upsetting.”
Shalvar spoke up. “I don’t know what the conversation was about, but she is extremely upset. As you can see,” he motioned around at the clear air, “we are not moving. And her temper is short.” I then noticed the goblins moving up and down the decks, small clippers out with which they were pruning heavy thorns. Each of the thorns was a good inch in length, and some dripped a green fluid which I’m not so sure would be healthy if injected. He continued: “We’ve sealed the bargain, though, so I am bound to commit the journey for you, and I can’t take it back.”
I nodded, and turned away and walked over to the railing opposite Dex. Looking down at the hilt, I whispered “Could you please not offend the ship-maiden any further? As intriguing as this journey is, I’d like for it to be as short as possible. Laying her becalmed for weeks while you argue something over with her is not my idea of a holiday.”
I turned back to the others and shrugged. “I don’t know precisely what to say here, but if you can hear me, lady, please accept my apologies for anything Sybarron may have said or done. I understand that our presence with you is an irritant, but the sooner we complete this journey, the sooner you will be rid of us. Had I known this would cause you such distress I would have considered another mode of transport.”
Shalvar nodded and went back to the wheel. “Nice words, but she’s a stubborn woman. Hopefully she’ll come around.”
The still waters remained so for the better part of that day, but towards evening a slight breeze picked up and we resumed our pace. I’d like to think my words had some effect, but I had no idea whether that was the case.
We all returned to our various means of passing time. I finished the other half of my cigar, and watched the sky as the stars began to emerge.
Which of course distracted me from the attack, when it came.
From beneath the waves, a great shark rocketed up alongside the vessel, upon its back a strange-looking scaled creature with two legs and four arms, sporting a wickedly-gleaming harpoon. Before I could get my bearings, the thing leaped from the back of its mount and landed squarely on the deck, not six feet from Zenith.
I then noticed others around the ship – two climbing aboard near my bedroll, two more keeping pace in the water to either side of the vessel, and five or six more in the water well beyond reach. None of the others had extra limbs, but none of them looked particularly weak, either.
Shalvar shouted the alarm, and the goblins on deck scrambled to get below while I drew Sybarron and charged for the stairs leading below deck. Karac erupted from those stairs a moment later, and I took station behind him, keeping him between myself and the monstrosity as it approached.
“Now what kind of fishy might you be??” He shouted as he drew back his axe and moved toward the hideous creature. It glanced at him, which was long enough for Zenith to fade into some form of insubstantiality and drift back behind Karac as well, leaving a shimmering echo of himself there beside the thing. It hissed sharply, and both it and Karac traded blows and parries in a succession so quick that I was hard pressed to follow it.
The other creatures moved in, and as they did Karac quickly called them out, swinging that great axe to keep them busy with him while Zenith and I took shots at the big four-armed fellow. While we were doing this, Bingo scrambled out from below decks, looking paler than he deserved, and swung himself up onto the aft deck overlooking the fight. I lost sight of him, my back to the wall of that raised deck, but his arrows were evident as they whistled overhead to bury themselves into the enemy. Sered was apparently completely incapacitated.
Seeing Karac locking the enemy down in such a tight area, I flung a spray of ice at the big four-armed monstrosity that froze its feet to the deck, and in response it simply reached over his head and practically brained me with the harpoon. I came to, soaking wet and half drowned, a few moments later to see Shalvar shouting at everyone to get down below decks while he directed an enormous pile of water among the creatures, washing several overboard and pummeling the big multi-limbed beast severely. The fish-creature’s blood was red enough, though, and there was a good bit of it flowing from where Karac’s axe had bitten into it.
We had picked up significant speed, and we were tilting severely to port – Ereliya shifting to try to shrug the enemy off her decks. She’d grown fresh thorns on the rails, as well, to keep boarders at bay.
I staggered down the stairs, the others close behind me, and my last view out the stairs was of Shalvar trying to maintain control of the big elemental he’d summoned. With that I drifted away into unconsciousness again.
A while later things had calmed significantly, and Shalvar came below to check on us. “That was unpleasantness that I would not have expected here,” he said. “It makes me wonder whether you all might be more trouble than I’d thought, previously.”
I was slowly coming around, and the others looked fair. Wounds had been tended, and apparently several hours had passed. Night was well on, and the stars above were shining in their rainbow of color across the sky.
Going up on deck, I had some time to enjoy the chill breeze from the aft deck, while I watched behind to make sure we weren’t being chased. Dex took the corner opposite mine, Karac traded commentary with Shalvar, and the others kept below. The goblin crew hung small lanterns about the ship, offering just enough light to see by.
Night wore on, and the clear skies slowly gave way to a rising mist. Thick streamers crossed the deck in ribbons that carried a strange off-kilter smell.
Shalvar didn’t seem to like this much. His expression soured, and he mumbled angrily under his breath.
“What is it? What is wrong here?” I asked him from my corner.
“I’m not sure, but this doesn’t look good.”
As he said it, a deep, thrumming note echoed out of the distance ahead of us. Shalvar’s face in the lantern-light went slack, despair becoming apparent. “You all are cursed. We are all going to die.”
He turned the wheel, taking the ship to starboard, as I saw glimmering lights through the mist ahead of us and slightly to port.
“What are you saying? What is that?” Dex whispered.
“It’s the Rot Wave, the worst pirates this sea offers.” Shalvar’s voice had a note of finality to it that I really didn’t like. “They’re a terror on this sea that few ever escape.”
Well, I guess we’d better make sure we’re among that few, I thought to myself.
As I did, a deep orange flare raised up from the fog ahead among the pirate ship’s lights, and arced to land with a loud explosion at the base of the lead mast on the Waves of Grass. The burst set fire to a section of the deck, licking at the mast and almost reaching the sail. The goblins around us began screaming, and immediately started grabbing buckets and setting up a sea-line to bring water to the eager flames.
The prow of the Rot Wave emerged from the mist like the head of a hunting cat from tall grass, almost silent but for the clank of chains liked from its rails and trailing into the sea. I thought for a moment I could see the end of one, it terminated in the butt end of a great harpoon that was sunk into the body of an enormous shark. At least five chains trailed into the water, giving this terrible ship a sense of implacability and menace that I would not have considered possible.
Aboard the ship, I could see strange pale creatures, possibly Eladrin, leap from the deck of their ship, fully ten feet higher out of the water than ours, and into the water to swim our way. Also on their deck was a human-looking being standing in the middle of a softly flaming pentacle, and an enormous manlike thing with the head of a shark.
Shalvar muttered, “Oh for the love of trees, that’s Jarvas himself.” He said this as another flaming ball left the hands of the sorcerer standing on their deck and arced to land directly on Shalvar’s wheel. He screamed with the agony of the flames licking all around him, and Dex ran to help extinguish them.
For my part, I stood at the edge of our rails and lashed out with every trick I could muster at the approaching pirates in the water. I hammered into at least one of them solidly, and was rewarded with satisfaction as an arm flew off into the water.
My satisfaction was short-lived, however, as the thing kept coming. Recognizing that we were dealing with the undead here, I shouted out to the others to be wary of the incoming danger.
Bingo again managed to make his way up, seeming slightly more spry this time, and Karac and the rest also boiled out of the hatch leading to our quarters. Sered and Zenith ran forward to help put out the fire up front, while the others teamed up on the living dead clambering over the rails to stand on deck. I let fly with curses as the enemy approached, and did my best to inflict as much grievous harm on them as Dex and Karac fought the fire that was spreading haphazardly around Shalvar. He was screaming the whole time, and I swear I could hear the high-pitched screech of tortured wood that I can only assume was Ereliya reacting to the pain as well.
The swimmers vaulted the barrier, two of them rushing to engage Zenith and Sered while two more came at my position adjacent to the captain’s wheel.
Then the cannons went off.
From the side of the Rot Wave, enormous cannon that I had not observed earlier fired in a blast of smoke, fire, and resounding thunder. From their enormous bores, a spray of sharks’ teeth, bone fragments, rotted carrion, and other flotsam crossed between the two vessels like a lightning bolt of filthy grime. I felt the ship shudder under the impact, and saw pieces split away from our hull. This first blast hit us well below the deck railing, and I heard shrieking from the goblins below-decks in response to the hit.
It had punctured our side.
I met the first of the two oozing dead things as it crested the stairs to reach our deck, weakenig it with a curse before it reached the top. As soon as it did, I slipped Sybarron into its collarbone with an eldritch-strengthened strike, sinking its point deep before levering it down – I felt the point bite into the creature’s hip-bone, and my stroke opened it like a gutted fish, spilling its blackened and stinking innards across the deck. I felt the curse take hold, and took the surge of vitality stolen from the thing’s spirit to create a mantle of protection around me. I saw the other engaging Dex where she had been dealing with the fire. I sank a curse into it as well before rushing to the side railing to prepare for any other attack that might be coming from the other ship.
The great shark-headed master of the other vessel was on their railing, looking over at us coolly through enormous eyes of complete blackness. Those dead eyes contained an icy malice I could feel even across many yards of ocean. As I watched, that feeling of chill sank into my veins and suddenly I realized my feet were moving of their own accord – the huge creature was exerting some kind of charm on me!
Eventually I freed a hand from control long enough to grab the railing and twist myself off my own feet, falling to the deck and spattering myself with the sprayed guts of the re-killed eladrin I’d felled, almost wretching at the odor. Having saved myself from falling over, however, I felt my arms roll me over, and I unleashed a dire curse upon Shalvar, whose efforts to maintain control of the screaming ship left him helpless amid the flames in his smouldering clothes. I saw the attack ripple up his side, twisting and frosting his armor beneath the cape he wore, watching as if it was from a place some feet above me.
I shook myself free from the control a moment later, and immediately unloaded a surge of arcane healing energy at him, repairing the damage I’d done and sheltering him a bit from the flames. Dex felled her opponent at almost the same moment, and I took the stolen energy from it to fashion another shield of protection around him as well. I saw him lean hard against the wheel after that, relief etched upon his face.
We were opening ground against the Rot Wave, though I could still hear the goblins below decks screaming among themselves. The giant ship was trying to turn after us, but its maneuver was considerably less agile than our own vessel. Zenith and Sered had finished out the fire at the fore, and Karac shouted at them to go belowdecks to see if they could help with sealing up the holes no doubt inflicted by the great barrage a few moments ago.
They came charging up a few moments later, and Zenith shouted up at us: “They’re all dead! All the goblins! There are some kind of spectres down there, they’ve killed them all – we’re shipping water, and the entire deck is full of the dead!”
Of course, I thought. The spectres probably were waiting beneath the waves for the cannon volley to open the deck before they swept in through the gaps and laid waste to the crew, augmenting their number by gathering the souls of the dead goblins to them.
Shalvar looked at us. “How well can you swim?”
I didn’t appreciate the joke. “Not well enough to finish the journey. We’ll have to deal with the spectres now, if you can keep ahead of that ship.”
“No, no – I have an idea, but it will sink the ship. Ereliya is part nyad – she won’t like it, but it may be the only way to heal the rip in her side, and we can flood out the undead from below. But to do it, I have to take her beneath the waves for a time.” His face was burnt on the left side, black crust beginning to show on his jawline.
“How long?”
“I don’t know. Could be minutes, could be hours. But it’s our only chance, as I see it.”
Oh, for the love of all that’s precious. “Everyone, grab something that floats! NOW!”
We all ran about the deck, looking for things we could grab that would keep us above water. I felt the vessel creaking dangerously below me while I grabbed a small cask and cut it free from the deck.
Please, dark lady, have mercy on my companions and I – should any of them fall, find them a safe home to rest in. With this last prayer, I flung myself from the deck into the cold water below. I heard others splash into the waves as well, all of us sputtering and splashing to reach one another. We gripped each other to stay together, a small raft of floating refugees, and watched as the great living ship sank itself beneath the waves.
Waves of Grass dipped her nose first, slowly, the lanterns at the fore going out as they touched the chill waves. I saw the rips in her hull dripping green fluid as they entered the water. Once her nose sank beneath, the rest followed quickly. The last I saw of her was Shalvar gripping the wheel tightly, clutching it to his chest and screaming with pain as the salt water touched his burnt skin.
She sank beyond our sight. Only a few bubbles and floating bits marked where she had passed.
In the mist, I heard the sound of the moaning – the calls of the dead on the deck of the Rot Wave, I now realized – receding in the distance. Her lights, shifting across the water, thankfully leading away from our location.
We floated in the water for what seemed like almost an eternity. Whether it was minutes or hours I could not tell you. The cold did not bother me, being inured to its effects by my concord with the Winter Fey, but I was worried about the others. Cold can sneak in and kill before you even notice it, and I made sure to keep watch on everyone, checking regularly to make sure they were still responsive.
The Rot Wave faded from our perception, and did not return.
I was doubly thankful that we had had a chance to grab these floats, for my arms were growing tired just from holding myself to this small barrel by the time Waves of Grass returned for us. Chainmail is a heavy burden, and had I been forced to swim I would have quickly sunk to my death – or worse – below.
But return she did, silently edging up to us out of the mist. Her ripped side had closed over, like a badly-healed scar, green tendrils and cords knitting together over the wound. We grabbed the netting thrown over the side to us, and hauled ourselves up, helping one another as we could.
Once we made it to the deck, coughing and wheezing, Shalvar passed two bottles of strong liquor among us.
“Congratulations. You survived an attack by the worst pirate known on this sea, perhaps the worst in all of Fey.” He looked down at us for a moment, before continuing.
“You are also now the crew of the Waves of Grass. Your passage will be a working one, now.”
As we rose up to our feet, he nodded back at the wheel. “She’ll carry us on for now. Let’s get below and re-start the galley stove, get some heat going and dry out our clothes. I also have to speak with you on another matter.”
We did as he said, sloshing our way back downstairs into the galley. Shalvar had several water-tight chests of coal as well as some kindling, which he said he kept for storm seasons. Before long, and with the aid of a little fire magic, we had the stove going and some warmth began to seep back into the room.
“Now. You,” Shalvar pointed to me. “I have sailed these waters for decades, and until tonight been attacked three times in all that span. Tonight I have been attacked twice, and by some of the worst elements this ocean has to offer. The only thing left would be for Vasylim to revoke my travel privilege here and sink me.”
I looked at him, puzzled by the attention. “What’s that to do with me? Are you saying I called them upon you?”
He shook his head. “Not you. That.” He pointed at Sybarron, hanging at my side. “What is that?”
I figured this time honesty and forthrightness the better choice. “His name is Sybarron. He was once a knight of the Winter Court, and has been cursed to live in this form until he gathers enough slaves and obligations to that court to counterbalance his offence to his queen. I still don’t see how this bears on our encountering these two attacks today.”
Shalvar threw his burned and drenched cloak at me, which I caught and dropped on the bench next to me.
“This is the beginning of winter, their power is ascendant here, and you bear a noble member of their court at your hip! How many slaves and servants do you think he will acquire in your hand? Versus how many do you think he’d find in the grip of Jarvas? I love my people, Shadrim, but think – we are a fickle race, and if he was a knight of Winter, he makes the rest of us to be bastions of stone by comparison!”
The others were silent, their expressions unreadable. It took me a few moments to process the thoughts coursing through my mind. Betrayal by this creature I hadn’t even considered, but Sharval was right – I had simply assumed it to be a weapon at my beck and call. That Sybarron might have plans of his own and the ability to call down such events upon us had never even occurred to me.
I cradled my forehead in my hand. “Yes, I see your point now.”
“I am bound by compact to carry you to your destination and return you, but know this, Shadrim – this thing you carry will kill us all long before we even reach our destination if you do not do something about it.”
“What will you do?” Sered asked quietly.
“We will have words. I will tell you more once I finish speaking with him.”
Karac stood up and pointed at Sybarron. “Have words? Have bloody words? Throw that filthy thing into the deeps before it kills us all! I’ll have a stand-up fight before me, not some dirty backstabbing elf-blade with designs of its own…” He sputtered to a stop as Sered put a hand on his arm, pulling him slowly back down into his seat. “Bloody freaking words. I’ve got words for you – over the side.”
Sered looked at me once he was sure Karac was still. “You are prepared to take action, if your conversation is not satisfying?”
It took me a while to respond, but in the end I nodded. Sybarron was powerful, and I greatly desired that power, but if it cost us all our lives the power was of little use to us. I stood, and walked out of the galley. I could hear the others muttering among themselves, and Shalvar’s occasional angry voice, barely beneath a shout.
I went to the bow, where my sleeping kit had been washed against railing posts, and pulled it out to lay flat. The mist had gone, and the Fey stars shone like a scattering of jewels across the night sky. Such deceptive beauty, I thought.
I drew Sybarron and laid him down on my bedroll, then returned to leaning on the railing.
“There is little to ask, for which you might answer. As you no doubt heard, you are accused of bringing those pirates down upon us. I find little reason to doubt this, though you are welcome to object, as you wish.”
The entity in the blade did not answer. I fancied that I could feel him listening, brooding at me.
“These attacks on this journey are unacceptable. If you have problems with where we go or what we do, out with them. I would remind you that had we been killed there, you would have surely sunk to the bottom, where your recovery would be doubtful for a great many thousands of years.”
“I am within a hair’s breadth of sticking you in a satchel, locking that in a stone case, and either sinking you to the bottom of the Sea of Scales, or finding a convenient volcano caldera to toss you in.”
Still nothing. I decided to lay out the facts, whether or not he would answer. He was a captive audience, and I had a slow welling of anger surging up in my veins.
“Now, allow me to expound for a moment, for I have perhaps not been clear on my intended path with you.”
“I am on my way to ruling a great deal more than simply some town or small kingdom, and these people are my vehicle for achieving that. That I happen to like them and negotiate my way with them are legitimate tactics that ensure long-term loyalty rather than setting myself up for a future back-stabbing. It is a dangerous road I will be following, and I need a blade that will serve me, not betray me. However, my way will take us considerably longer than yours, so if that shall be a problem, out with it now and we’ll find you a nice resting place.”
Flames were beginning to lick across my fingers as I spoke, the fires of a Hell I’d never seen, that my grandcestors many hundreds of years ago had bequeathed to me and which I had only recently unlocked.
“There is a throne for me in the future – and I am laying down this choice for you: help me achieve it, or step out of the way.”
“The third option, which you have attempted to take this night by calling those pirates upon us, I will offer a little insight on. If you actively oppose me or mine this way again, I will not only make sure you are never found again, I will make it my next mission to destroy you. If I have to trek to the Elemental Chaos and offer your soul to Imix himself, I’ll do it just for the satisfaction of watching you burn. I hope this makes it clear that you have only two options here.”
“Now, to clarify. I was born under an omen, one which caused me to be sought out by one of the leaders of the Cairn Jale, Lord Balenor, now one of the eight advisors to Bel of Avernus. He saw in the omens of my birth long ago, that I was a threat to the throne of Hell, Asmodeus’ seat of Stone and Blood. At the time, I found his reading of the omen somewhat unrealistic, but his offer for service was good, and I took it. Who was I to argue, when his generosity was both great and something I could not break him from?”
I felt the flames lick their way up to my shoulders, climbing up into the hollow of my collarbones and playing beneath my jaw.
“The King of Hell, on the other hand, he took that omen far more seriously than I. It is personally fortunate that he did not precisely locate me as Lord Balenor had, but unfortunately it was disastrous for my people. He took that omen seriously enough that he bent-backwards the compacts between his kind and mine, and he let my Empire fall in the very moment of our victory against the Arkhosians. He did so simply because he felt that gave a good chance for his prophesied enemy to be killed in the ensuing chaos, rather than hunt me down singly for his attention. Since I vanished from existence, his divinations after the Fall showed me to be gone, and he has since given up trying to find me, thinking his plan successful.”
“What he has done to my people, and the price we paid for his betrayal, will come home to roost.”
“I see Balenor’s plan clearly now. He knew the portent showed me unseating Asmodeus, and he wished to position himself to either take that throne for himself or to accompany me and earn a place high above the rest. I have another outcome in mind, though I certainly intend to keep his alliance if I can.”
“I will vault Al’Veydra to be not only the seat of a new Grand King, but it will be the seed of the return of Bael Turath to power. A cleaner Empire, unstained by the rabid and uncontrolled tyranny of my fiendish ancestry, but clearly the one true source of power in this world. We will not lose sight of the duties and goals of the Empire, this time, and all shall kneel to its purpose.”
“From its newly-beating heart I will strike at Asmodeus himself, take his throne as my own, and bend the Legions of Hell to my purpose. I shall wed the Black Queen to unite our empire over the living, the dead, the damned and the redeemed. The new Bael Turath will be the vessel of my will in this World, and I will remake Hell to be the duality as it was intended to be – the redemption and the retribution, the refuge and the prison, and all things that live and die will bow before my judgment and that of my queen.”
“For Hell will no longer be a charnel-house engine of dying souls. It will be the seat of judgment, the mantle of redemption, and the source of righteous punishment that it once was in its original form. From it, I will train armies vast and unstoppable, and uniting my Legions with the forces of Death, I will pluck out the heart of the Abyss and send it back to the Far Realm from which it came, and set right the balance of the Universe. And in that end, all Gods and men will bow to my will.”
“To do that, first I must rebuild the beginnings of my empire.”
“Second, I must cut the beating heart of Asmodeus from his very chest and eat it before his staring eyes.”
“If you are fortunate, and remain in my good graces, I may even use your edge to that end. Personally, I would prefer to have you present as my ally in this. If you follow me into this fire, then when we emerge on the other side, I will see this curse lifted from you. I will grant you a new body myself, if I must, and I will assign you a place in my court.”
“But I leave it to you – it is your choice. I will have only willing allies in this. It is early yet in my journey, a dangerous path lies before me, and it is the nature of omens to be unspecific as to their ultimate outcome.”
“If you wish to remain with me, I offer you a place by my side as I rise to take this destiny before me.”
“You may also depart.”
“But if you attempt to betray me and mine again, I shall assuredly slay you in preparation for the task ahead of me.”
“I will ask you in the morning what your choice is to be, to give you time to contemplate. I expect your answer at dawn.”
With that, I wrapped the bedroll over the blade and tied the bundle tightly to the first mast.
As I walked toward the stairs leading below, I caught sight of Ereliya looking down at me from the wheel, her robes drifting smokily in the breeze. The anger on her face was unmistakable. I bowed slightly in deference, and went below.
