Tunio, bleary-eyed, returned to his cabin. He stripped off the clothes given to him before dinner and stumbled into his hammock that hung in the centre of the room. He listened to the creaks and groans of the ship as it swayed on the water. The hammock swung slightly in his room, matching the motion of the ship. The room was suddenly cast into darkness as the candle on the small nightstand that sat near the door flickered out. A soft click sounded, as he was plunged into darkness.

“I wanted to thank you for helping me with Metilia,” a soft whisper echoed in the room.

Aquillia? What is she doing?

“You don’t have to do anything. Just lie there and relax,” Aquillia crooned. The hammock stopped swaying and then he could smell her. A soft fragrance of wildflowers mixed with freshly cut grass wafted over him.

“What are you doing?” Tunio asked.

“Don’t worry,” she soothed, placing a hand on his cheek.

Tunio pulled back from the touch and fell out of the hammock. His eyes adjusted. Aquillia stood in the middle of the room and was fastening the hammock out of the way to a pin in the ceiling. She was naked. She turned and looked at him with a smile that creased her face.

“I want to thank you,” Aquillia said again as she advanced on Tunio, her hips swaying slightly.

“There is no need to thank me,” Tunio protested, edging back up.

“Sure, there is,” Aquillia insisted, stroking his face. “You did me a great favour.”

“It was nothing, really,” Tunio protested, standing up against the wall.

“It might not have been anything to you,” Aquillia pressed her body against his, “but it was something great to me.”

Her skin was soft and her nipples erect. He could feel her warmth pressing against him.

His body rebelled and his manhood began to rise and press against her.

“How long has it been?” she asked, nuzzling his neck and running a hand over his work-hardened body.

“A while,” he confessed as he raised his hands and placed them against her back.

“I give you myself,” she crooned, placing one hand on his face, the other grasping his balls. “I didn’t wear the dress the captain wanted so that you could see me.”

“My family didn’t wear clothes,” Tunio replied, “my mother was a dark elf. Nudity is not a big deal for me.”

He grabbed her buttocks and lifted her up.

She squealed. “It has been too long. Be gentle,” she whispered.

He tossed her aside. She landed on the floor her legs apart, a look of shock on her face.

“If you want to repay me, I would prefer that you tell me about my father,” Tunio said.

“You don’t want to make love to me?” she whimpered.

“It’s not that,” he sighed, waving at his manhood. “I would rather that you tell me about my father. What was he like?”

Aquillia sat up properly and leant against the wall. She then patted the floor next to her.

“Come. Sit down,” she instructed.

Tunio sat down next to her, leaning against the cabin wall.

“I only knew your father for a little while. He was a man that loved life vibrantly and he was a good lover.”

“Did you and my father ...?”

Aquillia nodded. “It was before your mother. I remember the day he went into the Bloodwood Forest. He was so determined to stop your mother’s people from attacking his farm.”

“They killed him,” Tunio whispered, “and my father let them.”

“I very much doubt that,” Aquillia said. “Your father wasn’t one to hold a grudge, but he wouldn’t have let them kill him.”

“The high priestess said my father knew they would come for him, that he was meant to die.”

“I don’t know about that,” Aquillia soothed. “I do know that your father wouldn’t have let them kill him without a fight. One time we were at his farm and after we made love, he still got up and fought for what was his.”

Tunio lapsed into silence.

“Your father was a man who wanted to live life for as long as he could, of that I am certain. He would have wanted to meet any grandchildren that he had.”

“Do you know who Metilia's father is?”

Aquillia shifted and turned to Tunio.

“I just ask because I don’t think she knows,” Tunio said.

“I had a few partners at that time.”

“She and Gazali have similar features,” Tunio continued. “I was wondering if they had the same father.”

Aquillia’s eyes widened and she jumped up and raced out the door.

Was it something I said?

***

Tunio set his hammock and climbed into it. As he closed his eyes, he began to dream.

He was running through a city with people all shorter than him. A large figure stood at the gate in the high walls, dressed in radiant armour that shone like the sun.

“The time has come. The last seal must be broken,” the man in armour bellowed.

Tunio could feel the words in his head and hear them in his ears. As he skidded to a stop, the short people all cleared away. He drew his sword and held it aloft in his right hand.

He shouted at the man in radiant armour, “I will defend these people.”

“You!” shouted the man. “You are not worthy to defend these people, now stand before the will of the gods.”

“Here I stand and until I die, I will defend these people.” He strode through the large metal doors set in the high walls.

In the land to the south of the city were high mountains where a storm raged. The fields to the base of the mountains were scorched and burnt.

The armoured man turned, and a portal opened to his right. He stuck his hand through it and drew out a weapon: a hammer.

“You will die for your insolence, mortal,” the god spat. “I am Mars and your family was mine so you are mine.”

The god ran forward and swung his huge hammer which collided with Tunio’s upraised shield. The sound of metal crashing on metal deafened him as the god swung an uppercut with the heavy hammer. It hit Tunio in his chest and sent him flying back. Mars stepped forward, stood over him, and brought down the hammer onto his face.

Tunio awoke with a start, sweat covering his body. He stood and paced around the room.

You need to be prepared, a voice in his head echoed.

“Who was that?” Tunio spoke aloud.

You are at the beginning of a journey that could take years. You need to be ready, the voice intoned.

“What must I do?” Tunio asked aloud.

You are the first. You must prepare.

“How do I prepare?” Tunio asked.

Take heed of my words. Your father died to give you your mother’s blood. You must continue his work. You will not finish it, but you must continue.

Learn these words:

A man’s heart is fickle,

true must a man’s heart be

to wield the spirit.

Honour and glory,

reveal the soul

remain true to your word

and see glory.

“What will these words help me with?” Tunio asked.

You will know when the time comes. Memorise them.

***

26th day of the 7th month 610thyear of the 8th era

Tunio walked out on the deck, his bare feet padding over the rough deck. At the foremast, he spied Metilia and Gazali talking. Gazali’s lean frame fit his naval uniform snugly and his wavy locks of hair blew gently in the morning breeze. He was leaning over Metilia with one hand on the foremast. Metilia also leant against the foremast, her white dress and brown shawl covering her light chocolate skin.

Tunio began walking towards them.

“Your mother came back early,” Gazali said.

“I don’t know why,” Metilia replied, “she said 'I won’t be back until late.'”

“I saw her walking down the corridor naked,” Gazali continued.

“Did you like what you saw?” Metilia asked, glaring at Gazali.

“I don’t want your mother,” he said, reaching up and stroking her face.

“Not here,” she rebuked him. She ducked her head and stepped away. She ran past Tunio and onto the main deck.

Gazali made to follow her then, saw Tunio and stopped, hitting the foremast with his fist.

“Do you want to go after her?” Tunio asked, indicating Metilia. “She seems distressed.”

“I want to, but she wouldn’t like it,” Gazali replied.

Gazali took a step and stood directly in front of Tunio, looking him straight in his eyes.

“It’s strange, but I get a sense of familiarity from you,” Gazali stated, “it’s almost like I am meant to trust you.”

“Why do you think that?” Tunio asked.

“I am not sure,” Gazali replied. He shook his head and then looked back at Tunio. “My mother tells me that you recently lost your family.”

“Yeah.” Tunio looked down at his feet. “They were killed by dark elves.”

“Is that why you had to leave the Fort?”

“Sort of.”

“What happened?” Gazali asked.

“It’s been two weeks now,” Tunio began. “A force of dark elves led by their high priestess of Meerat killed my family in the early hours of the morning and burnt my home to the ground.”

“How did you escape?” Gazali asked.

“I was out in the Fort with a girl,” Tunio sighed.

Gazali laughed and clamped a hand on Tunio’s shoulder.

“I arrived in time to see my father die and retrieve his sword,” Tunio continued, looking past Gazali, moisture gathering in his eyes. “He told me not to take revenge on them. I confronted the high priestess and she threatened to kill me if did anything.”

Gazali’s mirth dissipated.

“When I informed the Fort commander, she gave me these trousers and sent me packing.”

“I am sorry to hear that, man,” Gazali said, “Do you want to take revenge?”

“I want to,” replied Tunio, “however, it was my father’s dying wish that I don’t, so I am going to honour him by not taking revenge on the dark elves or the high priestess.”

“That is a hard legacy to live up to,” Gazali said.

“I don’t want to kill them, I just want my family back,” Tunio whimpered. Tears began to roll down his face.

Gazali didn’t say anything. He just took Tunio into an embrace and held him.

Tunio let the emotion flow. The tears flowed, and he cried for the loss of his father.

“I miss him so much.”

“I understand,” Gazali said. “I consider you lucky, you got to know your father. I never knew mine.”

Tunio pulled out from the hug, his eyes were red from crying. “You don’t know your father?”

Gazali shook his head.

“There seems to be a lot of that going around. Both you and Metilia don’t know who your father was.”

“I asked my mother once and she just got angry.”

***

That night the voice came again.

A man’s heart is fickle,

true must a man’s heart be

to wield the spirit.

Honour and glory,

reveal the soul

remain true to your word

and see glory.

The words repeated themselves two times. Tunio took up the words and started to repeat them to himself as he went to sleep.

***

27th day of the 7th month 610thyear of the 8th era

Tunio stood on deck, standing next to Gazali and heard the crow’s nest call out.

“Land ahoy.”

“Looks like we will arrive in Peace Landing today,” Gazali informed Tunio.

“It will be good to get off this ship and see something other than the endless ocean,” Tunio said.

“I get that,” Gazali laughed. “My first voyage was the hardest.”

“I thought you grew up on the ship?”

“No,” replied Gazali. “My mother says she was pregnant with me on this ship, then she put to shore for a few years before putting back to sea. I was raised by my grandparents.”

“Oh, when did you first come to the sea?” Tunio asked.

“As soon as I could,” Gazali reminisced. “I was a ballista monkey. When my mother found out she was furious. She beat me to an inch of my life. Look. You can now see the city.”

Gazali pointed out into the distance.

Tunio turned and looked. On the distant horizon, a city was beginning to take shape. Tall spires clustered around the tip of a huge mountain. The mountain was snow-peaked and had a large crystal edifice on one side, just below the snow line. One spire was made from deep red glass that shone in the sunlight, reflecting a light that drew the eyes.

“That red spire is a lighthouse,” Gazali said. “The locals call it the Ward of Despair.”

“An odd name,” said Tunio.

“To the uninitiated, sure. If we get a chance, I will show you why it’s a symbol of hope and joy.” Gazali turned away from Tunio. “Helmsman.”

“Sir,” the helmsman replied.

“Turn us north five points,” Gazali instructed.

“Aye, sir.” The helmsman turned the wheel, counted off five points and then stopped. “Five points north, sir,” he said once the action was completed.

The ship cut through the waves and the city on the horizon grew as they got closer. A second crystal tower appeared, this one yellow. The city grew mostly between the two crystal towers. Soon other buildings made from stone and mortar began to appear amongst the tall crystal towers. Around the yellow tower, other ships appeared. Tall sailing ships, some sitting in the deep waters, others closer in to the docks, all at anchor, waiting for cargo and crew before heading out again.

A small longboat came alongside and called up to the ship.

“Fleur de Lis,” came a call from a small man standing on the ship.

Gazali strode to the side of the poop deck and leant over it.

“Permission to come aboard?” the man called, seeing Gazali.

“Permission granted,” Gazali called back. He straightened up. “Crewman, send to the captain and tell her we have arrived at the port.”

“Aye, sir.” The crewman dropped the rope he was holding and saluted, then set off, running to the captain’s quarters.

A short man with a set of thin filmy wings arose over the side of the poop deck and alighted on the deck. The man stood no taller than Tunio’s waist. His dark brown body, while small, was covered in muscles. He was clothed in a simple pair of sky-blue trousers.

“Lieutenant,” the gnome greeted, “I am pilot first class Persea; you have been scheduled for docking bay fourteen.”

“Docking bay fourteen,” the helmsman replied. “Tacking to the bay now.”

“Do you have the normal shipment for the city?” Persea asked.

“We do,” said Gazali, “the captain will give you the details.”

“Persea,” the captain hollered, climbing the steps up to the poop deck.

“My good captain,” Persea said, rising to head height with a single flap of his wings.

The captain was dressed in her uniform black pants and a blue coat buttoned with a single button over her bust.

Persea embraced Hiwot with a big hug which she reciprocated, crushing his wings to his body. With a single flick of his wings, he pulled back and smiled at Hiwot.

“Docking bay fourteen?” she asked.

“As always,” Persea agreed. “Do you have the normal package for me?”

“I do. Come, let us discuss the details in my ready room.”

Persea laughed and followed Hiwot as she descended the steps back to the quarter-deck.

The helmsman guided the ship into the dock, ordering the crew to reef the sails and slow the ship into the appropriate docking bay.

Gazali stood beside Tunio who drank in the sights and smells of the big city.

The docks, carved from stone, were painted bright white. At the edge of each pier sat a small, squat building, made from wood. It had a large painted number on its side. The ship glided past piers with numbers that started at five and started to increase. Beyond the piers, large grey buildings made from stone sat on the edge of the island. Amongst the buildings teemed people of varying shades and varying costumes.

To the north, the large yellow crystal tower stood marking the end of the city and the docks. Beyond the yellow tower, several tall sailing ships drifted, their ballista port opened, their sails green, marked with a crossed sword and hammer in the middle.

They passed the dock that had a number fourteen emblazoned on the side, and the helmsman turned the ship towards the island. On the pier to their right, the ship glided past the building and gently came to a stop.

“Drop anchor,” Gazali called, and a large grinding and rattle of metal on metal shuddered through the ship which came to a complete stop.

As the sound died down, Hiwot and Persea emerged from the below deck officer country. Hiwot was laughing, with her jacket open and billowing in the wind. Persea flew behind her with a small grimace on his face.

Persea flew off the ship and headed back into the city.

Hiwot climbed the steps and ascended to the poop deck.

“Gather your things, Tunio,” she said. “This is Peace Landing.”

Tunio turned to face her. Under her jacket, she wore no shirt. “Thank you, Captain.”

“Mother, do you have to flirt with him so?” Gazali questioned.

“You have always been a little bit of a prude,” Hiwot said. “When you get a woman, you will understand.”

“Sure, Mother,” Gazali said, rolling his eyes.

Hiwot pulled her jacket closed and did up a single button. “Is this better?”

Gazali sighed and turned away.

Tunio descended the steps and walked to his cabin. He gathered his sword and picked up the shirt and trousers Hiwot had loaned him, presenting them to Hiwot at the door.

“Keep them, boy,” Hiwot laughed, “the last man to wear them was your father. I have no use for them.”

“Thank you.” Tunio clutched the garments to his chest.

“Oh, one more gift for you, in remembrance of your father.” She reached into her trouser's pocket, pulled out a small coin pouch, tossing it to Tunio.

“It is not much, but your father was never a rich man,” she said as Tunio opened the pouch and looked inside to see two gold coins, several silver, and bronze pieces.

Tunio closed the pouch up and with a tear in his eye, headed to the midden deck.

“Roll out the gangplank,” Hiwot called. “Ship will be onshore leave for the next three weeks.”

A cheer went up from the crew as the gangplank was pushed out. It landed on the pier. Tunio was the first to descend to the pier.