As they entered the dock district, the crowd and noise picked back up to Shaya’s chagrin. It was almost like walking into a different city – or a slum. The buildings favoured mundane masonry and carpentry, the crowd contained more working folk and fewer nobles and merchants, and the scents shifted from perfumes and alchemical substances to sweat, alcohol and fish.

It’s like returning to The Blight. Shaya thought, a shudder running through her as adrenaline pumped to keep her alert. No, stop it, that won’t be necessary here.

But instinct was difficult to sway, and she began to pick out bellicose drunks and possible pickpockets despite herself.

“Hey!”

A familiar, booming voice caught her attention, and she turned to see Gaz waving at her with a skewer of fish. She could barely make out the tops of Lorral and Pelark’s heads in the crowd next to him. Krebo returned the wave, and the two of them moved to reunite with the rest of the group.

“There you are!” Pelark said, grinning with uncharacteristic joy. “You two missed a good show!”

“Pel was a ruthless negotiator – we basically robbed these fancy folk for our parts!” Gaz bragged before inhaling an entire skewer of what looked and smelled like greasy, breaded fish.

“A man is his honour, eh Pel?” Shaya turned to the shorter man and cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Nothing dishonest about bargaining,” He crossed his arms, “You know what they say about the seventh son of a merchant, right?”

“I don’t think anyone talks about the seventh son, Pel.”

“Exactly! It means we have to be sharp and fend for ourselves! Besides, you won’t judge me when you see your cut.”

Shaya stared aghast as Pel actually pulled out a fat sack of jingling coins right then and there, pouring them into another pouch for her. There was nary a glint of copper in the stream of electrum and gold coins, and more than a few eyes turned to spy what was going on. He put his pouch back into his doublet and tied hers shut before handing it towards her.

“Here, hold Quill for me,” Shaya said, handing the gryphlet to Gaz now that he was done with his food. The kitahm took them with a sour look on his face, but didn’t say anything. With her hands free, she took her cut from Pel and tied it to her belt, where it was easily accessible. She shifted the pack on her back to be more comfortable and pushed her 'new’ broadsword further back on her hip to be out of the way of her hands.

“Thanks Pel, how much did you just hand me?”

“40 gold and 20 electrum!” He beamed with pride, more heads turning their direction.

More than most peasants would make in a lifetime. Shaya sighed inwardly. And he handles it in the open like it’s nothing.

More than they’d make in ten other hunts combined too.

My life really has changed.

“Awesome,” she said, keeping her thoughts to herself, “Now where did you get those skewers? I’d be a fool to pass up the chance to eat some!”

“Right this way,” Lorral smiled, “Also, I got each of you one as a sampler to hold you over.”

“Lorral.” Shaya said, placing her hands on her friends shoulders. “You are the absolute best. Never change.”

Her friend giggled, unwrapping two skewers and handing one to Shaya and Krebo.

The skewers were as delicious as expected. Rich batter with a hint of spice added weight to the soft, buttery meat within, all of it just melting in her mouth. “Oh gods,” she moaned, as they approached the stall selling them. “What are these?”

“Lobster balls!” Lorral grinned, “they’re a common dish here – pa and I get them whenever we’re close to the Jade Sea.”

“Whoa - you’re feeding me insects?” Shaya said in mock indignation, “Isn’t this a peasant’s food?”

“Yep!” Lorral laughed, “I think the nobility is really missing out on this, and with any luck they won’t learn of it. I’d hate for these to become insanely expensive!”

Their group grabbed another skewer each – except for Shaya and Krebo who bought three each. Quill’s whining ensured they bought them a snack as well, the vendor happy to sell them some raw fish for the chance to see a gryphon up close.

“How much longer do I have to carry Gryphy?” Gaz said, holding the gryphlet with one hand so he could eat his fresh skewer as they walked.

“That’s not their name!” Shaya replied, polishing off her own skewers in quick succession. “And just another minute, I think.”

They passed by several enormous ships, people swarming around them to load or unload heavy cargo. Most of them were of Kelahkese design, but a few sported the sleek hulls expected from Vayeira. Wealthy merchants and colourful guards garbed in silken robes and lamellar armour watched labourers closely as they handled small crates being offloaded from the southern kingdom’s ships – the land renowned for their access to rare and precious metals, like mithryte.

With her eyes locked on one of the Vayeiran ships, Shaya didn’t even see the kid she ran into. He stumbled passed her, mumbling an apology as they started to move away. Except that Shaya plucked him up by the back of his tunic and turned him to face her, the boy going pale and still.

She held out her other hand to him, palm up.

He hesitated, eyes darting around him as he weighed his options.

The boy made up his mind and dropped her coin pouch into her palm.

“P-please,” he stuttered, “I have a starving sister, I...please don’t hand me over to the guards or...or hurt me.”

“What’s her name?” Shaya asked, cocking her head at the boy.

His eyes flicked about again before answering. “Zavi.”

She shook her head at him. “You don’t have a sister, and if she were starving you’d be quite the awful sibling given how healthy your weight is.”

The boy’s eyes widened.

“Be careful when you pick your marks, kid. You normally don’t get to make this mistake twice.” Shaya set him down and gave him a gentle push to get him on his way. He backed away, a mix of confusion, shock, and disbelief on his face. His mouth opened and moved, but no words came out.

“I can’t believe you just let a criminal go free,” Krebo muttered.

“Uh oh,” Shaya said, tossing the boy’s own coin pouch in her other hand. She spied the dull glint of a dozen copper coins through its ragged exterior. A good haul for an amateur pickpocket, though his boss would take a hefty cut of it.

“I can’t believe you just robbed a street urchin.” Lorral chided.

“I didn’t mean to!” Shaya complained, “I can't help it – I have sticky fingers!”

Her friends frowned at her, even the gryphlet giving her a judgmental squawk. That opened a space in the crowd around them, which Shaya noted to in no way, shape, or form abuse later.

“I’m innocent – watch!” Shaya said, turning to the boy as he staggered away, still processing what just happened. “Hey, kid!”

The pick pocket stiffened, then turned back to her. Shaya overestimated his reaction time. The thrown coin pouch smacked him in the face and bounced off, but he recovered fast enough to catch it on the rebound. His eyes widened further, bulging as he stared at Shaya.

“See?” Shaya turned back to her friends, “I’m a good person!”

“We need to exile this criminal as soon as possible.” Lorral said, hands on her hips.

“Agreed,” Krebo nodded gravely.

“You think you know a person...” Pelark said, turning away from her.

Gaz just shook his head as the group walked away, Quill looking about in confusion in his arms.

“Very funny guys,” Shaya sighed, “Hey, wait up! I’m reformed... mostly!”

“You promise?” Lorral asked.

“Uhh,” Shaya replied, “I probably shouldn’t swear to anything along those lines.”

“We should put her on the first boat that’ll take her.” Pel suggested.

Gaz chuckled, “With our luck, only the last boat we come across will be going to Imperial City.”

+++++++++++++

“I can’t believe you jinxed us like that Gaz,” Shaya complained, “We’ve been walking for hours!”

“It’s not my fault!” Gaz returned, “There were a few ships going to Arcadia back there!”

“Yeah - in weeks!” Shaya ran her hands through her mane of hair in frustration, thankful it was Gaz’s turn to carry Quill again. “There has to be a boat heading that direction sooner than that, I don’t want to be late if anything goes awry.”

“Calm down,” Krebo said.

“Right, right,” Shaya said, taking a deep breath to calm herself and stop the doom spiral within her brain. “Focus on what I can control... there are a few boats left, but if those don’t work out then I’ll just have to find an inn.”

They kept walking along Olin’s enormous dockside, Gaz handing the gryphlet back to Shaya after the next boat looked to be heading south to Vayeira. The boat after it was one of the turtle ships that Kelahk was renowned for and often stood as the first line of defense against waterborne Titans. Though the fully enclosed and spiked vessel definitely wasn’t looking for passengers, the sight of it filled Shaya with joy.

“Wait, what’s a turtle ship doing on the Jade sea?” She asked, “I thought the Archon made sure it was depopulated of monsters at the start of Her reign.”

Krebo shrugged. “Posturing, most likely.”

“It looks old – I think I spy ballistae in there,” Pel added, “Krebo’s right, it was likely retired from service and sent here to live the rest of its days as an icon.”

“Its soldiers look drilled though,” Gaz nodded at the small company of them at the end of the dock.

Shaya admired the ship and her crew. The ship itself was over a hundred feet long and made up of two decks, with the top deck fully enclosed with a spiked shell – giving the ship its name. Two sails rose from the shell to give it propulsion, but oars poked out the sides of the lower deck as well. The upper deck had plenty of armoured port holes, but fewer than Shaya had heard. She suspected Pel was right – this was an older version of the ship, designed for the broader ballistae.

The odd part was that the soldiers weren’t the lightly armoured marines Shaya expected to see for boarding actions. Instead, the group was the standard combined arms group of the Kelahkese forces. Heavy infantry in iron lamellar armour with thick brimmed helmets practiced maneuvers with their pavises and glaives, with alchemists tucked in closely behind them - bedecked in explosives to turn the tide of any battle. Around them stood the archers Kelahk was famous for, strong men and women wielding composite bows for skirmishing in Kelahk’s rough terrain made up predominantly of mountains and forests.

“Those aren’t marines,” she mused aloud, “I wonder if they’re off to support one of Watur’s allies in some dispute.”

“Perhaps,” Krebo nodded at the company’s officer clad in bronze plate and Watur’s colours, “Those are all too common between the Titan Wars, as people maneuver to advance their personal agendas while they can.”

“I guess that’s the problem with having nephilim rule the kingdoms,” Lorral sighed, as they kept moving, “immortality does make it difficult to advance in a stagnant society.”

“Tell that to everyone who turns down Lumir’s offers.” Shaya shook her head, thinking back at how stressed he looked during their last meeting.

“Nephilim are near immortal, not invincible,” Pel added, crossing his arms, “they have a lot to lose if they take any risks with their life.”

“Passage to Arcadia!” A voice boomed from down the docks, “Come see the glorious Imperial Capital in all its splendor! Departing soon – so act fast!”

“Throne be praised!” Shaya cried, hastening her steps.

Emotions flooded over her and her friends as they approached the large merchant vessel. It dwarfed the turtle ship, its fat belly sitting low in the water and making Shaya wonder if its three sails could even get it moving. Rough looking sailors moved about its large deck, but plenty of well-dressed passengers and not a few nephilim also strolled about. Two dark-haired men in merchant’s robes walked up the ramp to the ship, carrying a large crate between them, but their eyes scanned over Shaya and her group as they approached.

“Got room for two more?” Shaya asked, as she approached the giant red-head shouting about passage. The horns protruding from his forehead and craggy skin suggested he had far more demonic blood in him than Shaya, but his rough-spun sleeveless tunic and basic trousers did not fit the level of nobility she’d expect for such a potent-looking nephilim.

Eyes like burning coals looked down at her and settled on her gryphlet. “Depends, is that thing domesticated?”

Quill squawked in apparent offense as if they understood, using the indoor voice that Shaya had been training them on. She set them down to make negotiating easier.

“They’ll be fine. They’re nippy if strangers approach, but nothing too scary.”

He stroked his fiery red beard, seeming unconvinced. “And what business takes you to Arcadia?”

“I’m off to the Imperial Academy,” Shaya replied, raising her chin and whipping out her admittance letter with practiced finesse.

His eyes lit up – their glow even intensifying. “A Kelahkese mage admitted to the Academy?” His tone was incredulous, but also jubilant, “I haven’t heard of that in at least a decade! Say your farewells and get on board, I’ll make sure we have a cabin for our little hero here.

“I’m Captain Kredig Sura,” he said, offering her a meaty hand to shake. “And my better half here is The Surly Serpent.”

“Shaya Heirsoth,” she grasped his forearm and blinked in surprise at the strength of his grip, “And, thanks to both of you for taking us.”

“Just make our kingdom proud.” He replied, then held up a hand when Shaya fished out her coin purse while shifting the gryphlet. “No charge, I consider this doing my duty. Food and fresh water are included, but I swear I’ll throw you overboard if you or your beastie cause any trouble for my passengers. They’re a wealthy bunch and we have a heavy load of cargo; I won’t tolerate any threat to that business.”

Shaya turned back to her friends and put her letter away. “I guess this is goodbye, at least for now.”

Lorral was the first to give her a big hug. “Take care of yourself and show those Imperials what real grit looks like!”

“Thanks Lorral, I will! Maybe I’ll even see you there in another year or two.”

The younger woman’s nose wrinkled, “No thank you, I’m happy to learn in more practical – and local – environments.”

Gaz stepped in and scooped Shaya up in a crushing embrace. “When you’re learning all that magic, just remember the simple pleasure of smashing things with your bare hands.”

“Okay,” she wheezed in response, “Please stop crushing me.”

She and Pel were the next to exchange hugs. He gave her a grin, “Give’em hell Shaya. It’s okay to cheat against prissy nobles, they need the lesson.”

“And you didn’t, eh?” Shaya chuckled when Pel shot her a glare.

“You shouldn’t cheat,” Krebo instructed, offering her his hand, “the strategy loses value if you gain a reputation as a scoundrel. Best not to leave any witnesses.”

Shaya laughed, then smacked Krebo’s hand aside and hugged him. “Thanks for all of the lessons, Krebo. I never would have got here without you.”

“I know,” he replied, an honest smile on his face. “Now go work your ass off for your dreams and show those soft nobles what frontier grit looks like.”

She grinned, “Oh, I will.”