“Business is doing well,” Bana said. She was a dockmaster, the fourth Ranun and Carter questioned so far. Though their questions were more efficient than tough, meant to get them through as many docks in the shortest amount of time. Bana’s short figure was caped in her lengthy, frizzy hair that reached to the back of her knees. The threads of her hair were intertwined and stuck in natural knots. If she brushed by a hook, her hair would yank her head back.

Steepcreek had twenty docks surrounding the large lake. Each one stretched far out, but they weren’t connected at all other than by land. Meaning every time they questioned a dockmaster, they would have to walk all the way back to land.

“What do you sell, and what do you buy?” Carter asked

“We sell a lot of furs; Avarich is our top customer in that export. We sell other goods, but mostly in addition to the furs. We buy a lot of wine, which we then sell to markets here or otherwise, haul them over to southern Midhelm to get an even larger profit there.”

“Do you sell furs by sea route to Gleon?” Carter asked.

Bana shook her head. No. Her eyebrows lowered and she looked insulted.

That about ruled her dock out, as her expression well convinced Ranun. Trading with a kingdom so close through an extensive sea route was redundant and a waste of money, so the question seemed odd.

Carter looked to Ranun, who nodded.

“Thank you for your time,” Ranun bowed. “We will get out of your hair.”

Bana frowned, then Ranun finally noticed the joke he had just accidentally made. He bowed again to apologize but retreated quickly down the dock back to the land.

“Another one down,” Carter said. “Hopefully, we make it in time.”

Ranun nodded. The ships were soon permitted to leave, and with only a fifth of the piers questioned and checked, they needed to hasten up their process. Otherwise, if Corolla were on the docks, he would have ample time to escape.

Boats these days were quick, Ranun noticed. While the larger ships carried more goods, the shorter ones—named swimmers—could cut travel in half, often used for light and non-bulky, expensive goods such as spices. The boats had engines these days that kicked the water under them. Though, no engine was large enough to fit ships much larger than standard-sized swimmers.

Ranun and Carter moved up the fifth pier, finding nothing of note. The process repeated four more times.

On the tenth pier, Jank, the head dockmaster, greeted Ranun and Carter eagerly. They were quite interesting right off the bat, as the entire crew carried sheathed swords around their waists. There was nothing illegal about that, but rarely did all of a team have blades on them.

Jank had a shaved head on broad shoulders and a tattoo of a hawk on his right cheek; the black ink almost made it appear as a crow. “Your Majesty, I would have never thought I would have your company!”

“Greetings, Jank,” Ranun bowed, polite. Carter nodded in appreciation of the dockmaster, who slipped them a drink of what looked like water but smelled of ale. They promptly refused his offering, moving on.

“We are just checking out the piers, the services, and whatnot. Would you mind showing us around?”

“Why, yes, I would love to! Come, follow me,” he said. But he stopped after a couple steps, cupping his hands together to form a makeshift horn, “ATTENTION EVERYBODY! Be on your best behavior! Ranun Spring is here!”

“Sir yes, sir!” his crew shouted back in unison.

“You run a tight ship,” Ranun noted, seeing the crew push themselves through their tasks. He saw one slip a glance of Ranun from his ferocious sweeping of the wooden dock. A few ran into the cabin, then followed a barrage of clinking and rubbing. The windows opened from the side. Out of the four who entered the room, two left, hauling trash bags, throwing them into a dumpster behind the shed building.

“A tight ship? No, this is a dock! I’m very messy but quite insecure about showing my dock to nobility such as yourself,” Jank turned around, looking at Carter. “And who is this, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Carted extended his hand. “You may call me Carter. I’m an agent-general.”

“Ahh, so what brings you here to Steepcreek?”

He speaks as if he doesn’t know…

“I’m looking into some personal matters.”

“Mmhmm,” Jank said. “Anyway, let me show you around. Let me know if you have any questions.”

They asked the typical questions, but perhaps prematurely, as Jank walked down the pier in front of Ranun. Ranun couldn’t test his face when he could only see the back of his head.

They entered the office and the two who remained inside panicked, rushing out. Jank snatched one of their collars, bringing him back. He pointed to the corner. “You missed a spot,” he said.

The crew member rushed to the corner, lifting a discarded bottle of whiskey. He ran out of the office and tossed it in the dumpster. The room and the clinking must have been bottles shoved into garbage bags. The room was still far from clean. A little dusty, but the crew only had a minute to prepare.

Carter lifted the boxes along the left wall and found bottles of alcohol, primarily whiskey inside. The other was empty, used all the way through.

“So, you and your men drink a lot, huh,” Ranun said.

“A lot? Well, I must admit we share a drink at the end of every shift. But with twelve men, myself included, we go through a lot in a day, let alone a week.”

There was no crime against that, Ranun supposed. “Do any of your men drink on the job? It must be mighty dangerous to be tipsy on such a narrow platform.”

“Correct, but my men are clean on the job, believe you me.”

Ranun nodded. Everything seemed to appear clean, though there were many eyes on Ranun as he stepped back out on the open pier. Then he noted the swords around their waists.

“Why the swords,” Carter asked. He had the same thought.

“Sir, my crew are all former sailors,” Jank said. “Worry not; it is only a custom. We haven’t pulled out a sword in years.”

“Yeah?” Ranun asked.

“Are you aware of the Steepcreek Pirating? Our crew was the only one prepared.”

“Oh, bravo,” Ranun said. He did remember the dock robberies a few years back. A group of pirates from the Shallow Islands infiltrated their piers, robbing the docks of their goods before sailing out, uncaught. They stole thousands and thousands of coins, one of their greatest schemes to date.

“Is there anything else you need from us, Your Majesty?”

“No, sir,” Ranun said. “But don’t be surprised if we revisit you in a few hours.”

Jank nodded, though he looked a little concerned. Out of all of the dockmasters, he was the most suspicious.

Ranun and Carter walked down the pier a little defeated this time. Nothing was incriminating or worthy of damning him. Ranun kept his eyes down to his Soulsmithed boots. He thought he would use them today, but deep down, he never honestly expected it. It wasn’t his role anymore to physically take care of these types of things. He was all but ready to sacrifice a part of his life on behalf of Gordon.

But there were ten more piers to go. But hope started to fade as the heavy bell rang a vibrating tone. Everybody in the city knew what that meant. The boats—primarily the swimmers—raced to the canal to leave Steepcreek. The larger ships usually took off an hour later, usually out of courtesy to the quicker, more speedy boats.

Ranun and Carter walked past a man wearing a brown trench coat and baggy brown trousers. His head looked down, averting the king. Not the reaction most had when walking past a king. But as soon as Carter stopped moving, Ranun did too. The man who just walked past…

Had half the ears of an elf.

“Wait,” Ranun commanded, turning around.

The man kept walking as if he hadn’t heard him.

“Do you disobey your king!” Ranun raised his voice a little higher.

The man froze, then turned. “Sorry,” he said. “I… did not see you there.”

Carter gasped, though quietly. He must recognize the voice.

“What’s your name?” Ranun asked.

“It’s… Alphonse, sir.”

Alphonse… No. His eyes, they for a split-second, twitched violently.

“I didn’t ask for your father’s name,” Ranun said. His hand was on the hilt of his sword. He started to draw it slowly, to no threat in the opposing man’s eyes. No fear, either. “What is your name.”

He cringed.

“Where were you last night,” Ranun asked, his voice threatening as he drew his sword entirely out of his sheath, exposing its steel to the sunlight.

Carter gripped the hilt of his sword as well, and he, too, began pulling it out.

“Who did you kill last night, Corolla?” Ranun asked. Now his boots hissed out the pink mist. Once again, they were on, activated. His body lightened as a result of Accelen’s Boots. He pointed the sword. “And where did you put the body?”

“I didn’t know…” Corolla whispered. “That he was your brother until after the incident. Are you here to claim him?”

He’s here? Ranun thought. That meant Jank lied to him, or at the very least, tricked him. His questions weren’t blunt enough to evoke the reaction needed for Ranun’s judgment to incriminate.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” Corolla said. The bastard grinned. He lifted his bare hands. Carter flinched at the gesture, genuine fear bleeding through him as he knew what those hands were capable of. But he didn’t have the Soulsmithed gauntlet he used to kill Gordon anywhere on his body. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.”

The man was clearly mad. His face twitched wildly, and his body shook in jitters.

“What for?” Ranun asked.

“A fight I have no right in winning,” Corolla said. “You caught me weak, without my greatest weapon available to me. You can end me!”

Corolla started laughing maniacally. “You want your brother’s body? It’s on the pier! Kill me, and you can claim it!” He pointed down the pier to a swimmer boat tied to the dock. “It’s there! Come on!”

Ranun grimaced. “Surrender!”

“Never!”

“SURRENDER!” Ranun bellowed.

“Never—”

Ranun lunged in, his movement brief, covering ten feet in half a second. He thrust his left hand forward, aiming to snatch Corolla by the throat.

The drug lord caught Ranun’s wrist with his right hand, a motion that felt preplanned for how well executed it was.

How? Ranun thought. He moved at near inhuman speed, getting to that point with hardly a second buildup. He swung his sword over his hand, but Corolla crouched down to meet Ranun’s boot rocket forward in a stomp. But Corolla released Ranun from his grip and jumped back out before Ranun could even connect.

Three attempts, all that came faster than most ordinary humans could comprehend, Corolla shut them all down.

It’d been years since Ranun had ever swung a blade against another human being. The most his training had consisted of since he first received news of his curse was throwing his sword like a javelin. But against a man this quick, this reactive, it was a useless trick here.

Ranun took a step forward. The first approach took a little more effort out of him than he first anticipated. He’d have to make his subsequent attacks count.

Carter stood beside him, his sword aimed.

Ranun dashed forward, swinging his way past Corolla. He strafed left, avoiding the strike, but gave up his flank. Now, there was a swordsman behind and in front of his eyes. How well could his reflexes handle this?

Carter stabbed first, and Ranun slashed three quick attacks back and forth, but Corolla ignored Carter’s attacks. He dodged when a sword was over his head and jumped whenever a sword aimed for his feet.

Corolla evaded everything thrown his way. He was a greased-up pig going against children with butter on their hands.

He made them look like fools.

As Ranun slashed, his sword connected with Carter’s. The agent-general was getting more in Ranun’s way than Corolla’s.

Carter figured as such and backed off a few feet. Ranun dashed forward, strafing side to side, slashing in a barrage of attacks that never wanted to land.

Then, Corolla uppercut Ranun, his jaw punched upward, his eyes on the sun over the sky. Corolla lunged forward, grabbing the hilt of Ranun’s sword, and started fighting for it.

Carter rushed in with a thrust, but Corolla pushed off at the last second. Carter halted, and Ranun retreated in one massive stride, the two of them working clumsily together.

By the time Ranun landed on both feet, Corolla had jabbed Carter across the face with an open palm. The strike pushed Carter off balance, and he stumbled off the pier, his body dunked in the water.

Ranun grimaced. He underestimated Carter’s initial description. Corolla, an unarmed man, dodged and weaved his way out of attacks from lightning-quick moves from Ranun. Never had Ranun encountered a man who could hold a duel against him with his boots active for this long without a weapon. A man who moved as quick as a galloping horse struggled against a man wearing overbearing clothes.

But under closer inspection, not all of Ranun’s strikes were far off. A few cuts in Corolla’s trench coat revealed the orange suit he was famous for underneath. Ranun looked over to the side, Carter swimming above the surface, looking pissed.

“Go for help,” Ranun said. It hurt to admit it, but he wasn’t very much help here. Carter had said a gun could have come in handy, but they had no time to grab one. But even then, Ranun’s swiftness should have come as tricky to dodge as any bullet could ever dream of. “I’ll keep him busy for as long as I can.”

One of Corolla’s eyes twitched. He seemed to be in a hurry to get out, despite his earlier excitement at the possibility of being killed.

Ranun pointed his sword to Corolla. He decided to go half of his maximum speed, something so quick it became imprecise, especially on such a narrow platform as he stood on now.

He swung before his legs moved, but by the time his sword whipped across his body, he was already in Corolla’s face. The drug lord still reacted in time, grabbing the hilt of his sword again to stop the blade from following through.

I got too close, Ranun thought. He kicked the floor under him, his speed matching with his weight to drive Corolla forward. They tumbled down together, both reaching their feet again. If I’m going to hit him, it has to come at an attack that is humanly impossible to dodge.

A few of Jank’s crew hurried down the pier. Many around them started noticing their king engaged in a duel. Carter was swimming to land.

“Stay back!” Ranun ordered them. There were four, two on each side of the pier forming a valley. As Ranun walked forward, Corolla walked backward. Now, he was on the retreat. The crew didn’t risk themselves fighting Corolla. But when Ranun passed, their swords drew behind them.

A naive Ranun would have thought the sound was the men joining him. But the aware Ranun noticed the shadows on the dock and the swords aiming for his back.

Ranun spun, a motion like a single rotation of a coin in midair, flipping at maximum velocity. He continued forward, and the shadow figures on the ground had lost both their swords and their sword-holding hands.

They screamed, but that was their punishment for holding a sword against their king. It didn’t help that Ranun was pissed.

“I thought you were merciful,” Corolla said. The man dared speak to Ranun about mercy, he who had massacred an entire town and fed their people with the victims' souls, he who stole Gordon from him. “Aren’t you supposed to be a pacifist?”

“I cherish the lives of my people,” Ranun said. The agony of mutilated men called out behind him, but they hardly hindered Ranun’s poise. “These men belong to Soucrest, and I have no desire to end them. As they took their steps against me, I took their hands in turn when I could have claimed their heads. If that’s not mercy, I don’t know what is.”

Ranun aimed his sword at Corolla’s chest. “But you, you don’t belong to Soucrest. No, you don’t belong anywhere. You deserve no mercy. There is only one place I can think of that you belong. A place I wish upon my worst enemies, but you would fit right in. Corolla, I’m going to send you to hell.”

Corolla nodded as if he agreed. “Then, by all means, send me there!”

But before Ranun dashed forward, he clenched his stomach. His curse! It hit him like a punch to the gut. Ranun coughed. The blood climbing inside stopped a little before his mouth. He swallowed, standing up straight once again.

As five crew members arrived, they had their swords pulled out, forming a wall. Would these men rather challenge Ranun than Corolla? Well, disobeying one party at the worst meant a dismembered hand. The other likely meant death. They were criminals nonetheless.

As Corolla reached behind the five swordsmen, he turned ever so slightly. His knees pointed the same direction, and his torso partly turned.

Ranun burst forward, full speed ahead. A gush of air pushed in all directions as he charged along with his sword tucked to his left. The surrounding men were caught in a violent gust, shoving them off the side of the pier. He came faster than Jaxton’s bullet could ever reach. Without his Dryhood Steel mask, what else had he to save his head?

Ranun’s eyes were bright blue, but they trailed behind the dark caves of his lowered eyebrows. His sword slashed horizontally, aiming to decapitate Corolla by the neck.

The blow landed, but as Ranun glanced to his right, he saw his sword missing most of his blade. A tooth of steel remained attached to his hilt.

Corolla had blocked by raising his right wrist. It cracked to the shot, and he screamed in agony as he walked back.

Ranun stood, stunned, his detached blade spinning in the air, eventually dropping into the lake.

Corolla, on the ground, grasped at his right wrist, likely broken to the strength of the blow. The crew shifted their posture to form a barrier between the two.

What gives? Ranun thought. Corolla should be in two pieces now.

Peering between two of the swordsmen, Ranun noticed the orange of his suit still intact. It came clear to him now. His suit had the same fabric found in the Crimson Cloaks, a group of assassins whose cloaks were their armor. A thick but loose material that was nearly impossible to cut through. But, as was evident by Corolla’s scowling, blunt attacks worked well. No wonder he feared Jaxton’s gun, even if it wouldn’t have penetrated.

Corolla mustered the courage to stand again, but he ran away.

“I don’t think so—” Ranun said but gasped. The last move struck him in the gut again, forcing him to a knee. The crew looked confused, if not a little hesitant. By the time one of them took a step forward, Ranun lifted and stared at him.

With his sword now a jagged piece of only a few inches, he tossed it into the sea. He walked forward, seeing Corolla run past a red-faced Jank ordering what remained of his crew to stock the swimmer.

“Who wants to lend their king a sword,” Ranun asked. The swordsmen pointed, threatening Ranun if he got any closer. Ranun pushed forward anyway.

They were out of sync, one of them driving forward first. Ranun swatted the sword down, reached for the sword's pommel, and ripped it from the swordsman. The second man who thrust his way had his sword blocked by the sword Ranun stole. Ranun kicked to the side, tossing the disarmed man into the water.

Ranun, however, had no time to worry about Jank’s crew. Not when in the distance, Corolla climbed into a swimmer. Jank and another member of his crew tossed the garbage bags they had thrown out before and tossed them into the swimmer.

Ranun ran, for this mission depended on it. He slowed himself. Otherwise, momentum would carry him forward and overboard. Jank and the other crew members were on the boat when Ranun neared the end. Corolla stood with a limp wrist, but he reached for something below a barrier.

At the end of the pier, Ranun took a few steps back, preparing himself to jump. He could jump a great distance with a proper setup. Otherwise, he could simply run on the water to catch up with them.

Corolla, however, held up a mummified body. He pulled a strand, and spiraling tape revealed Gordon’s face underneath.

No… Ranun thought. He took his first few steps. But right before he jumped, Corolla shoved Gordon’s body into the water. Ranun, with the choice in front of him, dove after Gordon’s corpse, giving up on Corolla.

The lake hit him cold, a barrage of icy water. He glanced up and saw the swimmer boat blast out and away down toward the right canal.

Ranun swam, trying to reach Gordon’s body. His life depended on how long it took him, as already, his curse was actively spreading in his gut. And swimming, that used all of the body.

Ranun pulled his brother from his legs, reaching the bottom. On top of his shoulder, Ranun was too heavy to float now. With Gordon over his shoulder, Ranun ran, his boots on the ground active; the motion was like pushing a boulder as his feet kicked the ground under him. He leaned in. Finally, near the land, he jumped to the surface, using all of his might. He took a breath, turning around while he gasped for air and embraced for the pain about to spike in his stomach.

He saw Corolla head for the canal, still free, still in his kingdom. The tape over Gordon’s body sealed him up entirely to preserve his body for transport. But, Ranun got him back, even if it cost him a part of his life.

Ranun on hand failed, letting Corolla get away. But on the other, he saved Gordon’s body. He could be buried, albeit without his armor, but buried nonetheless.

Ranun cried a single tear of happiness before the surge of pain hit him in the stomach. At that moment, he knew.

He had only two more battles left in him.