Kalie Rana

I watched and waved to the procession as well as the other peasants who had come to see me off, but really my attention was almost solely toward the horizon growing in front of me. It took a few minutes for the great battleship to pass between the outer edge of the fjord, and the promontory that stood watch over it. The large rock standing as defense against the Sea of Thorn’s harsh winds. It was as the boat passed beneath the shadow of the rock, something wonderful began to happen.

I had no doubt that it was under Qivioq’s call that the great swaying trees of the harbour’s promontory began to flower a quarter of a season before they should have. And it was by Siiva’s great bellowing song, that the wind floated those petals down to the deck of the battleship. I caught a single, whole pink and blue flower as it descended from the high rock, right into my hand. Then, in a beautiful harmony, Malik’s deep baritone, and Lyia’s high falsetto came together to push the ship faster out to the open water. It was there that I witnessed, the most wondrous show of all. Once we were near the rest of the flotilla, Kunnak demonstrated his power. Although we were at a great distance, the thunderous clap of his hands against the black basalt cliff face reached our ears only moments before we witnessed it’s effects. A sheer crack separated a great sheet of rock from the cliff—a slab at least a hundred feet tall—allowing it to fall on it’s own. It slammed down into wild churning water beneath. However, the titanic wave that such a fall would have otherwise created, was missing. As the rock sank beneath the waves, the ocean itself was once again muted by the harmonious singing of Malik and Lyia, who forced the water calm.

“A demonstration of power?” The Admiral’s voice surprised me, as I watched on in awe. I hadn’t heard both the Grand-Admiral and Lux return from their business below deck.

“A fond goodbye. I’d say,” I responded.

“I saw it as more of a promise of what it would mean if anything were to happen to the fair Princess,” Lux corrected. While I would never admit it, he was probably correct. The six of us were more than just pupils of the same teacher. In a way, we were a family.

“If you wouldn’t mind Mr. Anipinna, I would like to have a word with the Princess,” the Admiral said before looking to me, “that is, if you would indulge me.”

“Of course, Admiral,” I said, meeting his eyes, before turning and flashing a nervous smile to Lux. Although I knew better than to think that the Admiral would do anything that would require me to be nervous, there was still something about him that threw me off.

“Then I will make my departure. Good afternoon.” Lux noticed my smile but quickly bowed to the Admiral and hurried on his way, leaving the Grand-Admiral and I alone on the stern of the ship.

“You were quite quick to act. That’s admirable.”

“Act sir? What do you mean?” Although I had spoken at length with Lux up until then, I hadn’t so much as said a word to the Admiral outside of our joust in the pavilion.

“Back in the pavilion. You didn’t hesitate. I was quite impressed.” The Admiral’s eyes were firmly planted on the crashing waves against the coast of Cerith.

“Grandmother always warned me to be wary of assassins.”

“You saw that as an assassination attempt?” he said, finally looking down at me.

“Truly? I didn’t, no. But, there was no way I would let a challenge like that go unanswered.” Hearing that, the Grand-Admiral laughed, only quieting down to speak himself.

“And yet, you never used your wind majics. Why?”

“I thought it would be an unfair advantage if I were to cheat and use both simultaneously when you were unable to even cast a single proper spell. I assume that your Mr. Annipinna doesn’t know of your abilities?” I honestly couldn’t imagine that a man from a kingdom like Corvus would openly flaunt his majinhood. Aside from all of the nasty rumors I had heard about the leader of the kingdom, the only other thing that I knew for certain, was that Majin were unwelcome in it’s lands. At least they were. I guess the fact that I was on my way there now showed that maybe things had changed.

“An unfair advantage?” The Admiral turned to face me, the same carnivorous smile he had before stretched at his lips. “You chose not to use your majics because you were worried about an unfair advantage?”

“I guess so sir,” I said, breaking away from his intense gaze.

“My goodness, you sure are something.”

“Is that a compliment sir?”

The Admiral chewed his words before speaking again. “Hey, how about you just call me Hark.”

“I… I don’t…”

“Just do this old man the favour and do it, would you, your Highness? It would feel wrong to let someone as gifted as yourself bow to some old man like me. And how about next time, you show me everything you’ve got up your sleeves. Would that be okay?”

Next time? He wants a rematch?

While I considered the implications of a foreign Princess and a Grand Admiral doing battle, I pushed them aside for the moment.

“I would like that, Hark.” It was like at the mention of his name, the snarling beast of a man that he was in my mind, suddenly became someone that I could see as a friend.

“Now,” he said, his disciplined demeanor returning just as strong as it was before, “how about I show you to your quarters?” As we descended the curving stairs back down to the main deck, Lux came back into view waiting for us at the base of the stairs. “On second thought, why doesn’t Mr. Antipinna show you the way?”

“I would be happy to, if that’s alright Princess?” Lux said, bowing his head as deep as his station would normally require, however, the action felt as if it was bordering on sarcasm.

“That would be lovely, thank you,” I said, moving from Hark’s side to Lux’s. As he arose, the Admiral nodded in his direction, before turning back to me one last time.

“Good evening my lady.”

As Lux led me toward the bow of the ship, the expression on Hark’s face stuck fast in my mind. The smile of a face that didn’t often make the shape. With that in mind, I took a chance and spoke to Lux when we were sufficiently alone.

“I never did mention, it was quite considerate of the Admiral to spare you during his little show yesterday. Must’ve been stressful for you, to be near a man as powerful as he is. Frightening, isn’t he?” Lux didn’t break step as I asked what I suspected should’ve been a surprise.

“The Grand-Admiral is a good man. But you are not wrong. There is something unsettling about the sort of power that a man like he can possess. But fear not, the Admiral is a good man, better than most, and he has sworn to protect you.” There was no hesitation. He knew that Hark was a majin.

Maybe it isn’t so bad on the mainland anymore.

“If he’s willing to place his life on the line for another he is a better man than most, and if he is willing to follow up on it he’s better than all but a few.”

“An interesting saying.”

“It’s one of many that my grandmother has given me.”

“An intelligent woman,” he said, stopping before a door at the very bow of the ship. The soft glow of a candle flickered through the small glass window. Instead of opening the door for me, or even knocking, he stood there and awaited my response.

“One of greatest I’d say,” I said, making the first move. The bannister was a surprise of cold on my back.

Was I that warm?

“Well, I’m honoured to know the successor of someone like her,” Lux said, as his eyes held their intense gaze on me.

“Sadly, I am nothing much, when compared to a woman of her caliber.”

“I think an easy way to judge someone is to take those they look up to into consideration. If you aim to be even a fraction of how great you say that she is, I know that you will easily make a name for yourself in this world.” Lux stepped forward from where he had leaned so casually against the tar-sheened planks of my cabin’s wall. I half-expected, half-hoped for something more but he just transitioned so that he was beside me, against the smooth rail that ran around the bow of the ship facing the sea at my back.

“A name for myself, huh?” I asked as I turned to face the sea along with him. The rest of the fleet had quickly fallen behind our ship, the water spirits still commanded by Malik and Lyria continued to propel us forward. I suspected they would until the highest peaks of Cerith’s highlands fell behind the horizon.

A name other than the one given to me? There was something catching to that thought.

“And I don’t just mean consort to the White-Raven or something like that. I mean really be known for—”

“Cozying up with the Princess are we ink-fingers?” A sailor had appeared atop my cabin, carrying a loose coil of rope. Hearing the man’s voice seemingly broke some spell that I had fallen under. Where before the world and everything within it was just Lux and I, I suddenly realized the men who were busy at work above us, tying ropes and other such sundry chores.

Lux spun to face the source of the voice, an old sea dog, who looked like he was at least three-times our age, standing above us, casually carrying a large sack over his shoulder. It was at that same moment that I realized that Lux was armed. I followed his hand down to his thigh, where the blood-red handle of a dagger had hidden itself in the folds of his pants.

“Mr. Anipinna was just showing me to my cabin of course. I appreciate your concern sir, but there is nothing more happening here.” My words were quick, and the old dogs’ reaction slow, but after a moment of contemplation, he cackled and carried on. Turning back to Lux, I leaned close to whisper. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to have them target you. I’m sure it must be difficult to—”

“Pay it no mind,” Lux said, taking a step away from me. “If there is anything else that you require, please don’t hesitate to ask myself or any of the other porters. We will do our best to satisfy your every whim.”

“How about we continue this conversation later? Away from prying eyes?” For the second time in a single day, I only realized how close to a proposition my innocent words could have been misconstrued.

“I’m not sure about that M’Lady. If there is nothing else, I will be on my way.” Lux turned as he spoke, his cordiality only just masking the rudeness of his actions.

“Wait!” But, despite my protestation, he didn’t. He pressed forward, and turned the corner the moment he passed the first cabin of the row, leaving me alone, still leaning against the bannister of the bow.