Hesitation is the one and only step between success and failure. Hesitation is that tiny moment where one could think for endless possibilities and only come out with a face full of mindless regrets. Hesitation kills, saves lives, and ruins dreams. Therefore, hesitation must be taken with a grain of caution, precision, and strategy.

Luckily for Leonidas, that hesitation wasn’t an issue. He didn’t bother tending to his wounds, bouncing himself towards the remaining evidence right away, fighting the lingering pain and gushing blood. It was still dark, so covering the blood across the floor wasn’t a priority. First came the raft, and then the lies to cover his mess.

Leonidas rushed to the stern of the ship, hearing the restless voices of Kalvin and the others below him in the interior. They were either waking from all the noise and distractions on the ship, or too busy meddling with their own private affairs. Whatever it was, it bought Leonidas time—the only thing he had no control over, yet needed the most.

After a few seconds of aimlessly searching for a rope that hung on the bottom portion of the railing, he untied it, letting go of the one and only spare raft that remained attached to the ship.

“What the hell happened here?!” Kalvin yelled from the port, climbing out of the small wooden doorway that led to the interior of the ship.

Leonidas rushed back as fast as he could, carefully glaring above him as the ship continued its path inside the split. Some of the rocks poking out of the mountainside ripped through the sails like knives through paper. The dark sky above could be seen through a ravine-like crevasse, trees and grass poking on the tip of the ridge. “We’re almost through the split!” He yelled back, trying to look busier than he truly was.

Kalvin noticed Leonidas running towards him from afar, concerned, but not enough to raise an extra eyebrow. “I ain’t no ship expert, but those noises don’t sound right. All those jumps and hops woke me from my beauty sleep.” Kalvin sneered, his voice fatigued.

Oscar came aboard the port, yawned, then cracked his neck, along with the rest of his long fingers. “There he goes again, dismal-in-distress princess woke from his sleep.”

“I’ll have you know that sleeping is a vital part of recovery and hibernation.” Kalvin slouched his hands on his hip, making a swaying gesture with his torso.

“Says who? Your mother?” Oscar started laughing at his own joke, all while Kalvin directed his attention onto Leonidas, who was now standing patiently beside him, letting darkness fall over his blood-soaked sleeve.

Kalvin looked up, seeing the stars through the small cracks and breakpoints in the rocks above him. He noticed something odd for a moment, but dismissed it when Leonidas stole his attention.

“Is everything okay? I’m deeply sorry for the unexpected quakes, it’s the only way through the split.” His face was as innocent as ever, yet his words as powerful as the blood-soaked blade in his pocket.

“Everything’s fine…” Kalvin sighed, “Do ya need any help out here? I can stay up for a few if need be.”

“No, No. Please, get some sleep. We should be on the other side within the hour.”

“Where’s Cairo?” Rina stumbled on board. Her face twisted with worry and speculations. The ship quaked again, sending a thump to her fast-beating heart.

“I’m afraid I haven’t seen him.” Leonidas lied, showing no signs of doing so. “I saw him earlier with the wolf, but I think he said he was going to sleep for the night.”

“Cairo and Mooks both asleep at this hour?” Rina questioned, “Doesn’t seem right…”

“Guess they must’ve had a rough night.” Leonidas smiled, acting as friendly as can be. The pain from Mooks’ bite stumbled his words as they came out, but he was good at covering pain. Perhaps too good, as if it was second nature to him.

“Hmm.” Rina hesitated for a moment, deciding that asking any further questions wouldn’t prove to solve anything anyway. She turned, taking a step back towards the inner rooms.

More quakes splashed water on board, sending sprinkles of the salty sea upon Rina’s skin. Puddles began to form, leaking back inside the water’s grasp. However, as Rina took another step, the cold bite of the sea was replaced by a rather warm, thicker liquid. There were only a few drops that landed on her ankle and mid calf, but from those singular drops, she felt their sting send goosebumps up her leg.

Her eyes darted downward, fixating onto a dark, crimson puddle on the floorboards. She jerked her foot away, glancing around as to see if anyone watched her.

After confirming her secrecy, she bent down, tapping her finger into the puddle and bringing it closer to a lantern hanging above her. It was red, red like a fully bloomed rose. Red like the ribbon in Paris’s hair. Red like a drop of fresh blood.

Rina’s eyes went dark, and her mind didn’t know if to feel angry or afraid. Her heart raced with possibilities. This can’t be. Blood? She thought, searching for answers.

Leonidas noticed her kneeling beside the leftover evidence. Gritting his polished white teeth, he gripped the knife inside his pocket. “Pardon me,” He galloped towards her, hiding the knife within his free hand. “I’m afraid I wounded myself a little earlier while trying to steer the ship under control.”

Rina turned to him, now seeing the bloodstains on his arm under the lantern light. “How did you wound yourself to this degree?” Her face held a strong, hard expression, blood gleaming on her finger.

“When I was pulling the sails, silly me accidentally let go of the grip, and my body dragged itself along the rigid edge of the railing end.” He laughed playfully, clutching his wounded arm.

Rina tucked her innocence to the back of her throat, speaking like a queen to a peasant. “Sorry to hear that… Do you need any help wi-”

“Nope!” Leonidas cut her off, “All good up here. Nothing a few bandages and some warm tea won’t fix.”

She examined him for a moment, lips sealed. “Very well, goodnight.” She jerked her head away from him, walking down the steps and carefully keeping the drop of blood on her finger. She even went as far as to sniff it, only realizing her sense of smell wasn’t one of her distinguishable attributes.

Downstairs, Paris came out of her room, wearing nothing except her underwear and a blanket wrapped around her shoulder. She yawned, head full of bed-hair. “Go to sleep woman, why are you always up this late?”

Rina rolled her eyes, “Shouldn’t you be the one sleeping?”

“Im grabbing some coffee, helps me go back to sleep.”

“Coffee makes you sleep?” Rina raised an eyebrow, her voice wry.

“Coffee has like, melatonin in it or something. It’s good for the skin and my sleep.” She blabbered, partially right, partially wrong.

Rina shook her head annoyingly, walking past Paris like she didn’t know her. After turning the golden knob on her door, Rina walked inside her private chamber on the lower part of the ship, paces away from Kalvin’s room.

A small square window held itself up above her twin-sized bed. A clustered restroom locked itself beyond a tiny wooden door in the corner, covered in dust and old books. A candle lamp sat alone on a tabletop, giving light to the shallow darkness in the room.

Rina sat down, placing her finger below the lamplight. She examined the drop of blood with caution, twisting and turning her finger under the light around her. The blood was dry at this point, and she knew she wasn’t some blood expert that could quickly determine the victim. So, she shut the light off, washed her hands, and went back to sleep. She knew it would be a tough night for a peaceful slumber.

…

By the morning, Leonidas made sure to clean up the remaining blood scattered around the ship. He also bandaged himself, cursing at Mooks in his head as he continued wrapping layers of white around his arm. He also changed clothes, easily avoiding any further suspicions anyone might get if they saw his wound marks.

The ship made it out of the split with a few minor damages around the exterior and the rigid railings on the sides. The main problem revolved around the sales, as some took a much greater beating than the others. Even though there were minor rips, any unexpected storm would wipe and sink La Pionera to the bottom of the sea floor. The chances of said storm happening, however, were quite low. The mountains wrapped around the capital city, so the remainder of the trip was primarily safe and undisturbed.

On the first floor of the ship, over by a small kitchen-like area, Kalvin decided to do the honors of cooking breakfast for everyone. He wasn’t necessarily the worst cook, but he always picked the most uncultured dishes for different parts of the day. This morning, he decided it was appropriate to boil potatoes and sear a freshly peeled tuna fish on a skillet over a small flame. Not the best choice of food for a morning meal, but it turned out to be tastier than it looked.

The flame itself was inside a bundle of sticks in a metal bucket. Perhaps a bit overkill for anyone that was actually hungry. “Don’t worry!” Kalvin cheered with a burst of energy, “The bones will melt off anyway.”

“There’s bones in that?” Paris made a cringing face as she took another sip of coffee. Her hopes of washing down that morning seafood smell with a sip of caffeine didn’t work out too well. So, like always, she skipped breakfast.

Oscar jumped up from his seat at the table, filled with even more energy than Kalvin. “Don’t you worry Kal,” He patted him on the shoulder, “Food is food. I’ll be eatin’ anythin’ yu throw at meh.” He sat back down, looking around as if he was looking for something, or someone. “Ayo, where be the wolf and the other guy?”

Rina froze, her mind had forgotten last night wasn’t a lucid dream of some sort. Her only thoughts directed back to Leonidas, as her words burst out of her throat with smite and force. “It’s half-past nine. How are neither of them awake yet?”

Leonidas swallowed a handful of innocent nerves down his throat, unsure as to why she would question him.

“Rina!” Kalvin barked at her, frowning and displeased. “Leave Leonidas out of this. Seriously, show some respect to our beloved companion. I’ve only known Cairo and Leonidas for a couple of days, so I can’t say much about either. However, Cairo is a man who is still a mystery to me. I don’t know his intentions, nor do I care to meddle with his private affairs. For now, we’re following Leonidas, not Cairo. For all I know, he could’ve just taken the raft in the middle of the night and just left without notice.”

“The raft?” Rina’s eyes widened with curiosity.

“Oh that reminds me!” Leonidas put a finger to his chin, pretending to be in deep thought. “The ship does have a spare raft located towards the back. If you want—”

Rina burst out from her seat and ran outside to the fresh breeze of the ship’s deck. Behind her, planted in his seat, Leonidas couldn’t keep his lips from curling into a smile. He almost laughed out of her reaction, but due to the others beside him, his lungs restricted any sort of exhalation.

Rina looked around as if looking for the faint screams of a young child. Her heart racing fast, and her blood boiling furiously. First, she peaked her head over the port-side railing, seeing nothing but floating seaweed and darkness in the depths below.

The gentle breeze rolling along the waves passed through her hair like windchimes in a field. She turned around, booking it to the stern as fast as she could—looking for something she didn’t know. She just needed to look. Look for a raft, or where one could be.

Metal beams and empty rope lines littered the ship like rocks on a beach. There were so many ropes it didn’t even look like any of them had an end or a beginning. Everywhere she looked, nothing appeared. Everywhere she turned, nothing new popped into her vision. Everywhere her thoughts took her, she knew that deep inside, the raft was gone.

The longer and longer her heart denied the possibility of Cairo leaving, the closer and closer her mind accepted the realization. Cairo had left, and without even saying goodbye. Why… She thought. Why would you leave...

She turned back around, stopping by the port to let the wind clear her mind. Her arms leaned against the railing, and her head tucked down against it. Her eyes were closed, but something inside her refused to believe Cairo had left so unexpectedly.

That’s when she saw it. It was small, so small she wouldn’t have noticed it unless she was leaning against the railing. A tiny red droplet was dried against the white shafts of the beaming railing, staining it and giving it a luminous glow underneath the sunlight. It was blood; blood that wasn’t the same as the puddle from the previous night.

...

The sun stretched it’s ever so glimmering rays onto the sea like a blanket of pure light through a clear glass bottle. A look at the wrong angle might cause a blinding glare that’ll forcefully back off anyone daring to challenge it. However, once the perfect angle aligns itself along the ocean waves, everything springs to life like a garden of shining crystals.

At the royal capital of Harvoria—named Nirvana after the Queen passed—King Richard II sat on his throne like a man on his deathbed. His face was dull, ill, and wrinkled. His robes, washed and cared for, as primary custom in the royal chambers. His hair was as silver as the armor of the guards around him. His hands were as wooden as the paddles the slaves were beaten with. His voice, which deceived and manipulated, was as shallow and old as the throne he sat upon. “Slave!” He yelled, sounding like a hag yelling at a beggar.

A small, shy looking slave girl approached him. Her name was Laena, but the King would never address a slave by their name. That would violate his code, and his worthless pride.

The girl’s hair was short, only reaching above her shoulders and slightly below her soft chin. Her clothes were nothing more but a beaten blanket with a white shirt covered in dirt and sweat. Her face was young, perhaps too young for a slave, yet there she was, serving her master as the last slave left inside the castle walls.

The girl ran over as fast as she could, barefoot and tripping over herself multiple times. Blisters formed on her soles, and the black tiles ashed against her weathered skin. “Yes, my lord…” Her voice was weak and frail, along with her starved young body.

“Fetch me my rift. I need to speak to Leonidas.”

Behind the royal guards, a large glass structure filled with exotic items stood tall and wide along the wall. Inside were four shelves made of pure, thick-coated glass. Some of the items inside had no meaning, and some held the deepest secrets one could ever hope to find within the King’s chamber. Either way, it would take more than just one man to get past this level of security.

“Yes my lord…” The slave girl bowed, running over to a beautiful display of marvelous items she didn’t know the history of. The guards let her through, opened the structure, and she grabbed a navy blue sphere about the size of her head, bringing it back to the King within a moment’s notice.

The slave kneeled on the cold tile floor below her, barely managing to hold the sphere upright in her hands as she stretched it out towards the King. “Here you are my lord…” Her hands trembled with weakness and fear.

The King snatched the orb out of her hands with his wooden fingers. He set it aside on his armrest, then leaned back into his throne, grunting slurs. “Leonidas.” He demanded, tapping the orb and seeing the navy blue colors change into different shapes and patterns. “I better hear some good news today.”

“My lord!” Leonidas replied back from the other end. “Good news is all that I bring.”

“Very well, you may proceed.”

Leonidas made a strange noise as if he was trying not to laugh, then settled himself and spoke. “Your favorite, the one with the scar is no longer with us. You could say that he took an unexpected dive off the ship.” He cackled quietly to himself.

“How certain are you?”

“My blade punctured through his kidney, femoral artery, and that bastard wolf. Then, I threw them off the ship so as to not raise any suspicions. His body should be floating by the ridge, dead as a corpse.”

The king sighed, slightly relieved. “Have you checked the waters?”

“I have not my lord. But even if he su—”

“He’s not dead unless you confirm he’s dead!” The king barked, interrupting his son as if he were another slave begging for mercy. “It doesn’t matter now,” His voice calmed again. “I’ll send a few of my loyal men to scout the ridge. Even if he survived, he’ll be dead once they find him.”

“OH OH OH!” Leonidas galloped with excitement. “Are you sending who I think you’re sending?”

The King smiled, glaring at one of the wardens by his left. “There isn’t a man alive who can beat the Iron Fist. Wounded or not, that bastard’s head will be on my display for as long as my days allow it.” He glared at his hand, rubbing his wooden fingers.

Leonidas squeezed his smile so tightly it nearly looked as if he was about to vomit. “I should also mention the next victim who will fall in an unfortunate accident.”

“Do tell.” The King replied.

“There is a girl here who has far too many speculations about my recent actions. I need to get rid of her fast, but her Gift could be very useful for our defenses.”

“Hmm…”

“She’s able to control water at an incredibly powerful scale of strength. With the right methods,” Leonidas checked his surroundings. “We can convert her into one of ours.”

“Hmm…” The King entered his usual deep thought, voices echoing through his throat like bats in a cave. “Not needed. Kill them and bring me their bodies. We don’t need runaway traitors. Unless of course…” He thought for a moment, then continued. “Nevermind. Everything else will be decided after the jewel is in our hands.”

“As you wish my lord,” Leonidas concluded, shutting his transmission off.

The King looked down at his slave, who was still kneeling on the cold tile floor, shivering in fear. He could see her face show an unusual emotion—anger. Anger that wasn’t his own displeased him. It made him feel weak, powerless. So, he took his wooden hand and slapped her across the face, using his own anger against hers, and sending her in a flurry of quiet, yet painful screams. “Make that face again and your head’ll be next.” He chided at her, sending her off to the glass case of items with the sphere.

The King shook his hand, tieing any loose ends around his wrists that might’ve come undone. He then leaned back in his throne again, calling for one of the wardens on his left to approach him.

A massive, muscular dark-skinned man made his presence. His hair was short, a buzzcut down to the very millimeter of hair remaining on his scalp. His head was slightly squared, his jaw looking like it’s taken more beatings than one could endure in a single lifetime. His nose was disproportionate to his face, looking like he’s had it broken more than a dozen times in the past two years. This was a man who didn’t like losing. A man who hasn’t lost a single fight no matter the cause.

“Take two squires or guides and scout the ridge by the Black sea for a white wolf and a bleeding man with a scar on his neck.” The King started, “You may do as you please with them. Just make sure to bring me the man’s head, that’s all I ask.”

The hulk-of-a-man beside him kneeled, showing no signs of fear or uncertainty. “My lord.” He answered diligently, nothing but respect toning his voice.