EL Official BK5 Chapter 12 - Don't board strange ships that sail into the harbor. Especially if they don't make land. (Patreon)

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The leaves began to turn when the evening breeze grew cold. Winter wasn’t far off, and Peronne’s first child was due within the following months, should it be a boy, he would be the next heir. If it was a girl, well, she would hardly matter. Personally I couldn’t care less which it was, the child would be a plague regardless.

I thought about it absently for some time as I sat atop the eves at the edge of the castle wall. The wind caught my hair, pulling the wash of curls forward over my shoulder. If it wasn’t tied, it might have been annoying. Still, I made no move to push the hair back. There wasn’t any point, the breeze would catch it again, besides my focus was set. 

Far below was the target of my observation. Baltzar was training by himself, lunging and slashing at helpless trees in an effort to catch up with the rest of us. He shouldn’t have been out there by himself, even at the edge of the castle the forest was full of griffins and fenrir wolves. One could snatch him and no one would so much as hear his screams.

“Why are you always watching him if you’re not going to help him?” Ávila asked as she came to stand beside me with her arms folded.

“Because it’s entertaining to watch him fail. Besides, why should I help him?” I responded without looking over. If she had hoped to startle me, she would have to try harder than that. I’d seen her approach and heard her footsteps long before she reached me.

“You’re teaching me,” she continued.

“You’re paying me, and the minute you fail to do so, is the minute I stop training you.”

“You never do anything unless it benefits you, do you?”

I smiled, “Nope!” 

Ávila scoffed, “Asshole.”

“Careful, you shouldn’t be disrespectful to your superiors,” I warned and she turned red from the feet up. 

“Superior? You think you’re better than me? At least I live in the castle you croissant freak,” she shot back.

Her hatred for me was as entertaining as it was strong. Although I won’t pretend it didn’t bother me, she thought the same of me as everyone else. I was an outsider. Unable to claim any title, I was destined to serve the Klein family.

*** 

The letters from Hasan continued, as did his lack of promise fulfillment. The excuses were endless and I came to realise that I was being used. He had no intention of helping me, or rather, not so easily. The more time that passed, the more I was certain of it–Hasan was waiting for me to become desperate in the same way I was waiting for Baltzar, and I wouldn’t fall for it.

When the next envelope was tucked into my bag I upheld the pretence. Taking it with me in a nonchalant manner I ignored it until I was alone. In the quiet of the library I examined it. There were no spell seals, nor any trace of magic, it had been written and sealed in a way that would make tracking its origins difficult. The surface of the paper was smooth but rough, crafted in a way typical of humans.

It weighed about the same as usual and holding it up to the light indicated there was a note inside. Giving no more hesitation I tore open the envelope with casual indifference. The note unfolded delicately between my fingers and my eyes moved side to side reading each line. It was a poorly handwritten note in Fae Germanic, and upon first glance, appeared to be utter nonsense.

‘The seed shall awaken with the first light of the next turn of the sun.’

My brow creased, had I translated it wrong? I spent some time thinking of other ways it could have been said, all of which made even less sense, before deciding whatever this was, it must have been code for something. Hasan had secrets, and if I could figure them out, I would have leverage. 

Carefully, I replaced the letter in a new identical envelope and sealed it with water as a human would. If I wanted to understand what this was, the game needed to continue. In silence I placed the envelope as I always did, and then returned home.

For the first time in a long time, when I arrived the door was unlocked and I froze in place. Had Hasan already somehow found out I read the letter? Cautiously, I dropped the bag off my shoulder and drew my sword. I pushed the door open with my foot and allowed it to swing inward of its own accord into the space beyond.

I entered in a calculated manner, positioning myself to best see the room at once, and keeping my back to the wall. Inside, broken ceramics were scattered across the floor and some liquid dripped down the wall above my bed. Upstairs was dark, the floorboards creaked and a swaithe of long curly hair caught my attention.

“Mother..?” I murmured, uncertain.

She didn’t answer, but as I moved to see her better I came to understand that she had stopped at the bottom of the stairs. She loomed with her eyes fixated on me for a long moment, before she simply turned away, “Clean up the mess you caused.”

Trembling, I lowered the sword gradually. Her sudden reappearance wasn’t so unexpected. The Fae to the South had launched an attack in the days prior, and as a result, Lazarus changed the laws so that no one was welcome to leave the castle, so my mother had returned. Why her presence churned my insides into knots, I couldn't say… All it truly meant was that sleeping at home was, once again, no longer safe.

I went to classes tired and short tempered. With little time for nonsense, the facade I was building slipped occasionally and when Baltzar at last came to me for help, I wasn't as prepared for it as I had intended to be. 

He approached tentatively, shuffling across the grass toward me with hesitance after training had ended for the day. “Markos..” he began, fixing his attention on the ground.  

 “What do you want?” I snapped back, knowing well he couldn’t understand.

The boy took a deep breath in, and to my shock, spoke in the common tongue, “Could you me teach, fight?”

Taken aback I took a moment to process his poor language. “Auf keinen Fall,” (absolutely not) I responded bluntly, leaving him equally stunned.

Baltzar looked at me with eyes as wide as saucers, “Sprechen Sie Deutsch? Bitte! Sie müssen mir helfen, sonst werde ich die Prüfungen nicht bestehen!” (You speak the language? Please! You have to help me! I won’t succeed if you don’t!)

“Ich ist mir egal,” (I don’t care,) I responded casually.

“Aber du trainierst Avila…” (But you’re training Avila…)

“Sie bezahlt mich.” (she’s paying me.)

“Ich kann dich bezahlen!” (I can pay you!) he pleaded.

“Nicht genug.” (Not enough.)

“Nennt mir deinen Preis!” (Name your price!)

“Kannst du mich zu den medizinischen Prüfungen bringen?” (Can you get me into the medical exams?)

At this Baltzar stopped, and I snorted. 

“I didn’t think so. Sprich nie wieder mit mir,” (Don’t talk to me again,) I turned away and he didn’t follow, not that I cared. He was either going to figure out a way to get me what I wanted, or he was useless, and if it was the latter, I wasn’t in the mood for mediocrity.

*** 

While I was busy with Baltzar, another envelope appeared in my bag and with it more cryptic nonsense: ‘If the oak rises, the axe is already sharpened.’

It made even less sense than the previous passage and my lip curled. I was no closer to being able to leverage Hasan, and worse was that I was beginning to feel rather claustrophobic, like a caged animal nothing was working out the way I wanted it to. My mother made going home restless, Baltzar might well have been a wasted effort, while training Ávila was only getting more risky. Twice guards almost caught us, and once we were almost eaten by a griffin for training too far into the woods.

Still, I delivered the letter as I was supposed to. Afterall, who knew what stopping by this point would do, and went to meet with Ávila. In training with her I didn’t hold back as I might normally have. I knocked her into the dirt repeatedly, until she got fed up, “Stop hitting me! You’re supposed to be teaching me-”

“Stop whining,” I snapped, cutting her off, “You need to practice the techniques. You think you’ll win against anyone else by complaining that they hit you too hard?-”

I stopped short in my scolding when the bang of multiple shots rang out through the night. It was an unmistakable sound—human gunfire and my muscles locked up. The commotion was far off, long into the distance but it carried well on the wind. The blood drained from my face and I stood still, waiting. Were they coming this way?

Beside me, Ávila paused to listen before a look of exasperation crossed her face, “Human traditions are strange,” she muttered.

“Pardon?” I demanded, dumbfounded by her calmness.

“They celebrate the rotation of the earth loudly, it’s their tradition in this area.”

“It’s a celebration?”

“Did they not do this where you came from?”

“...No.”

Les humains sont bizarres (humans are weird), I thought to myself, but that wasn't the only idea to remain with me. ‘The seed shall awaken with the first light of the next turn of the sun…’ I recalled the first note, was it possible that the ‘next turn of the sun’ referred to the new year? And if so, what event was referenced? 

The riddle became my new obsession, not a moment passed where I didn’t think of it. A great many things happened with the new year, but if my assumption was correct, the reference to ‘the first light’ could have had a literal or figurative meaning for ‘early in the year’. In which case, something was due to arrive at the beginning of the year. A shipment of some kind perhaps? 

I lay in one of the gardens under the shade of a sparse tree, glaring up at the bright winter sun. What kind of shipment could Hasan possibly be getting that needed to be secret? And secret from whom? Moreover, if that was the case, how did it connect to the second letter? The idea rattled back and forth in the corners of my mind until I decided there was only one way to be certain.

Shipments of any kind only came from across the sea, and I was assuming ‘at first light’ meant in the morning. So, at dawn each day, I crept from the castle to the docks. In the frosted air before the sun broke the horizon I waited in the treeline.  For days my efforts were wasted. No ships breached the gloom and the bitter cold made me regret living at all.

That was until, at last, something loomed on the horizon. An enormous sail ship anchored in the deeper waters just off the coast. Hidden from sight behind the floating ice it wasn’t more than a few hundred feet from the shore. It waited there for a short time before a smaller vessel left the rocky beach to meet the ship.

Curious, I was too far initially to see who had been in the boat, but with little hesitation I dropped down from my vantage point. Keeping low and quiet, I crossed between the large upright stones to creep closer. The smaller boat reached the ship in a matter of minutes and was lifted up until two cloaked figures were able to step out onto the deck.

The distance was still too far for an accurate identification, and it was as I my heart thundered that I decided I needed to know what was going on. Giving it no more thought I stripped to my breeches. Leaving the rest of my clothes in a neat pile under a rock I tiptoed into the frigid waters of the ocean, and began swimming to the ship.

I was a strong swimmer and thought myself rather invincible. Ignoring the icy water and the drain of the salt on my muscles, I reached the side of the ship before my lips began turning blue. There was a manhole with a broken cover just over half way up the hull, and I knew that would be my point of entry. Without hesitation I took hold of the anchoring chain and began to climb up to it.

My muscles were screaming by the time I crawled in through the hole and when I tried to stand I fell immediately. I had broken into one of the lower decks and collapsed between boxes of netted cargo. Inside wasn’t any warmer. My breath steamed the air as I shivered and I was beginning to have regrets. How did I intend to get off the ship now that I was here?

I allowed myself only a moment to catch my breath before returning to the task at hand. All of this would be a wasted effort if I couldn’t find out what I wanted to know. I stood on shaky legs with salt crystals drying uncomfortably on my skin. The ship swayed with the ocean and I stumbled as I investigated.

The muffled sound of voices drifted through the hull as those above paced while I began searching through the cargo. Most boxes were too well sealed to open, but a couple had been damaged in transport, and I was able to pull away the wooden boards. Inside were an assortment of items. Some contained housing goods, fine china, and hand woven linens, while others held grains. This was a merchant ship, I realised with mild disappointment.

Likely nothing more than the month's trade, I assumed, until I happened upon a box that was not broken, but recently opened. It contained a staggering array of iron weaponry and I stopped, dumbfounded. Fae crafted weapons are indeed made of iron, afterall, we use them on each other, however, these were different.

Our blades are usually made of damascus steel, as it doesn’t immediately burn on contact, but these were made of something else. With wood-like patterning they made my fingertips tingle with a pre-burning sensation when I touched them and it held me mesmerized. The craftsmanship was far beyond anything I’d seen, and I realised I was wrong, this was an arms trade.

In another container I found a handful of shimmer-masks. They’re rare items designed to obscure one's identity through illusionary magic, making it hard to tell who the wearer is. Even if you notice distinct features and know who it is under the mask, you’ll never be able to precisely place them as the illusion tangles your senses. I’d never seen one in person before, the art of how to make them was lost and many were destroyed long ago.

I hesitated before taking one. 

Of course I knew I shouldn’t have, but who was there to stop me? I tied it into my breeches before continuing onto the next container. It was long and wide. Inside were more of the strange wood-patterned weapons, swords and a scythe… How was I going to get that out of here? I wasn’t permitted long to think about it before the voices became clearer. They were coming downstairs. 

I closed the lid on the weapons case silently, and hurried for a place to hide. I slipped between two hanging grain bags just in time to see a small group enter. Among them were three fae and two humans, none of whom I recognized, save to say that one spoke with a southern accent. 

They spoke for some time, examining each of the boxes I had and negotiating prices. It didn’t take long for me to understand what was happening. These people were plotting against the Klein family and this was an illegal trade bringing unusual, hard to trace, weapons into Leúchtend. As I watched from the shadows they openly discussed assassination plans and I was beginning to realise I was in over my head.

If this was arranged by Hasan, I was in more trouble than I thought. Helping them communicate was akin to treason, a crime punishable by death… Sweat beaded on my skin as true understanding settled into my bones. This was far beyond my abilities. Past the petty games I was playing and believing myself smart, this was true espionage and boarding this cursed ship made me intrinsically more involved.

“There’s a rat on board…” one of the human pets spoke in quiet monotone, silencing the negotiations.

My blood turned to ice as my heart stopped. The girl was a petite blonde, and she stood with her gaze focused in my direction. Her eyes glowed with the gift of sight and it was immediately apparent that she was here purely for this reason, to seek stowaways. 

I had only a second to prepare myself. I let my hair down and adjusted my demeanor as swords were drawn, “Ich will dir nichts Böses, ich will dir nichts Böses!" (I mean no harm, I mean no harm!). Up until this point, they had only spoken in the common tongue, and I chose to speak a different language on purpose in an accent to mask my French.

One of the men dragged me from where I hid into the light, and I did my best to appear disheveled. With wide eyes and a mass of messy curls I crumpled my posture to appear meeker. “Es tut mir leid, es tut mir wirklich leid!” (I’m really sorry! I’m really sorry!” I continued. 

“How long have you been onboard, wretch?” one demanded, and in response I mumbled some nonsensical german, pretending not to understand while keeping my lips lower over my canine teeth.

“He’s a lowborn street rat,” the other concluded. 

“Best be sure,” the first continued with narrowed eyes as I continued to spew repetitive pleas.

Before long I was tied to a chair above deck, and beaten until blood poured down my face.

“How did you get onboard? Answer.” 

The command was compelling but not overpowering, whoever this was, he wasn’t stronger than my lineage, “Ich verstehe nicht…” (I don’t understand) I forced myself to sob as I lied. They didn’t speak the language it seemed.

“Who sent you?” The interrogation continued, and I repeated myself over and over.

It was better they didn’t know who I was, or how I got here. Moreover, I was taking in as much information as I could. For them not to speak germanic meant they weren’t from the same settlement, but I wasn’t able to determine any connection to Hasan. As far as I was aware, I had never seen him interact with someone like this.

Eventually they seemed to come to the decision that I was not more than a starved stowaway, and when they were satisfied, they ordered the Pets to take hold of the chair. The women each took hold to lift me and I was carried to the side of the ship. Dread brought waves of nausea as the order to throw me overboard came, and I took a deep breath in as I braced for the cold.

I plunged into the ocean still bound to the chair and watched as the surface melted away. I knew they were watching, waiting. The underside of the ship was barnacle laced, the water was as bitterly cold as it was the first time, and my lungs were beginning to burn. With concentrated effort, I let my energy flare.

Underwater it moved differently, steaming as it hit the salt and separating like oil it was hard to control. A flurry of panic took hold as I worried I wouldn’t be able to direct it well enough to break apart the chair, but as the binds loosened I swam for the surface.

Aiming for a patch of ice I directed away from the ship and prayed they were satisfied with the bubbles my energy released. I broke the surface with a frantic gasp and stifled my coughing. If they were to hear me, I would be done for. It was brighter daylight by then, and under the sun’s glare in clear waters I would have been easy to spot.

That meant I couldn’t simply swim to the shore. I had to wait with the floating ice and drift between it. What could have been a couple minutes swim, became an hour long ordeal in ice water that drained magic. By the time I reached the beach I was so weak with exhaustion that I couldn’t stand. I crawled through the smoothed rocks and laid beside where I had hidden my clothes until I regained enough energy to reach for them.

I don’t remember how I made it back to the castle. I couldn’t go home in this state, not with my mother there, she would just as gladly smother me… But it wasn’t as if I had anywhere else to go. I thought about going to the library, but I didn't make it. Fever set in before I reached the inner castle and I collapsed somewhere in the gardens under a low shrub where I curled up to die like a stray dog.

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