Chapter 4

Wil sat on a crate in the storage hold, reviewing his spell book. He hadn’t had much of an opportunity to study it after leaving Aachen. In the weeks since he had progressed to Rank 5, he had spent most of that time on this ship, too seasick to even see the words, let alone practice his magic.

Thankfully, Martin had recast his healing magic, urged on by Annabelle and their impending crisis. The divine mana, combined with a mixture of a healing potion and ‘watery grog’ provided by Bell, had settled his stomach and driven away the headache.

He wasn’t sure how long it would last, but it had been a couple hours and he was still feeling as right as rain.

Flipping through the pages, Wil looked over the two new, Tier 3 spells that he had added from the Mage Guild branch in Elbing. Unlike when he tried to purchase from them previously, and had been turned away, he was now a member of the Guild, with the right to buy new magics.

He had bought ‘Thunder Step’ right away. An upgraded version of ‘Misty Step’, it could teleport him a further 90 feet, when compared to ‘Misty Steps’ 30 feet, and he could even bring someone with him on the trip.

The best part was that by allowing the spell ‘pop’ instead of simply fade away, he could create a thunderclap when he did so, deafening anyone nearby. It even created a shockwave with enough power that Annabelle had forbidden him from using it anywhere near her or her ship.

The other was ‘Tidal Wave’, something he thought was appropriate when he saw it in Elbing. It was less humorous now, with the thought of large, crashing waves rocking the ship he was on in his not-so-distant future.

The spell was simple, it could conjure a large amount of water from thin air and unleash it on his opponents with enough force to knock them off their feet, or crush them beneath the weight of water.

Assessing the amount of mana in his core, and comparing it to the requirements for the spells, Wil estimated he could cast two, 3rd tier spells, three 2nd, and four 1st, without collapsing in exhaustion.

Unless he overpowered one of the lower Tiers, in which case, all his math went out the window and he had no idea how many he could manage.

Closing the book with a sigh, he climbed off the crate. Truthfully, he did have a need to review his spell book, but that wasn’t the entire reason he was hiding down in the storage room, avoiding the crew and his companions.

Ever since he had presented his idea, he had been barraged with questions that he had no answer to. For all he knew, the overpowered wards may explode, or catch fire, or do nothing at all!

They had asked him for help, and he had given what he could. He had quickly lost patience with Annabelle and the others in her cabin, his head splitting to the point where he couldn’t focus on even thinking, let alone answering endless questions.

Tucking his spell book into his bag of holding, Wil left the lower deck, climbing the stairs warily. The first sign of someone approaching him with a question, he was going to ‘Thunder Step’ away, Annabelle be damned.

Oddly, he didn’t encounter anyone on the trip upwards, not even the crew. It was abnormal to not meet someone on the stairs. The ship may be massive, but it required a large crew to function. People were always scrambling to get things done, all hours of the day.

Stepping out of the stairwell into the bright daylight, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust.

He could hear the waves against the hull, the constantly blowing wind, the flapping and snaps of the sails and rope lines. But he didn’t hear any of the sounds of the crew. The ever-present cursing and yelling, the shouted orders, or even the occasional song being sung.

Worried, he walked forward to see where everyone had gone.

A crowd of silent sailors stood along the port and aft railings, not saying a word, just watching something in the distance. It seemed that everyone on the crew had stopped working for a moment, gazing at the horizon.

A feeling of dread pooling in his stomach, he jostled and pushed his way through the crowd, until he reached the wooden railing himself.

The Azure Sea stretched out before him, a shimmering blue, with white tipped waves rippling into the horizon. The yellow sun of Primaris was dipping low to the west, and, if he strained his eyes, he thought he could see a hint of Secundus rising to the East.

It was a beautiful day, warm, with fresh, ocean air filling his lungs.

It was peaceful, except for the black, roiling clouds on the horizon. It was as if night itself was descending from behind them, creeping up behind the ship to engulf them in darkness.

As he watched, he saw the flashes of purple lighting streak across the churning storm clouds, striking the sea beneath. The strikes were far enough away for the moment that the sound did not reach them, but from the speed of the coming storm, they didn’t have much time.

Already, he could see the storm closing the distance, and he spotted great, twisting waterspouts rising from the sea. The clouds were drawing water from the ocean, a churning connection being formed between sea and sky.

It was hard to judge without having a point of reference, but Wil could guess those spouts were hundreds of feet across, more than enough to destroy the Drake.

“That’s enough lollygagging!” The captains voice erupted from Quentin’s cabin, as the man himself stepped onto the deck.

“I want everything strapped down and secured. Close all the hatches, and-” The captain continued, giving orders with barely a breath between sentences. Wil tuned the captain out, watching the incoming storm.

The Drake was sailing away from it, but from the speed and size of the clouds, it would overtake them before long.

Idly, Wil leaned against the railing, watching the crew work. It was as if he were detached from everything around him, seeing it but not truly taking it in. This crisis could have been happening to someone else beside him.

He thought about his belongings, wondering if he had anything to stow and secure, but everything he owned was in his bag, strapped across his chest. Leaning across the railing, watching the storm, the minutes slipped by, until he was shaken out of his thoughts by a hand gripping him roughly on the shoulder.

“Gods above, Junior. Are you stupid? Ship’s rocking enough to send you overboard, and here you are, hanging around like you’re on a summer’s outing.” Garman said, shaking Wil a bit to wake him up.

Snapping back to the present, Wil realized that he lost track of time, the storm was nearly on them. The black clouds were almost directly overhead and the sea around them had become choppy. The small, white capped waves had become much larger, the ship rising and falling as it crested them.

The wind had picked up, whipping and snapping his white cloak around in a fury. Running a hand through his hair, Wil realized his topknot must have come loose, his hair blowing into his face.

“I’m sorry! I just…God’s bones, I don’t know what to do, Garman! I can’t even swim!” Wil admitted, panicking at the thought of being in the water.

He thought back to the summers spent at the lake, his mother taking him and his sister, before Tabitha tried to drown him. He shivered at the memory.

“Calm down! You won’t need to swim. We’re all good as dead if it comes down to that. Come on, the young miss wants us in her cabin. We need to be ready for your plan.” Garman explained, dragging Wil towards the rear cabin.

It was a good thing the other man kept his tight grip on Wil, as the deck was slick with spraying water and the moving ship threatened to knock both men off their feet. The crew seemed unaffected, nimbly scrambling around the deck, tightening ropes and trimming some of the sails.

Mercifully, Wil and Garman finally entered Annabelle’s cabin, collapsing on the chairs she had brought in. Mara, Bell and Martin were with her, all sat in chairs that were secured to the floor.

Struggling to close the cabin door against the howling wind, Wil caught a glimpse of heavy rain pelting the deck before slamming it shut.

It was quiet in the cabin, compared to the howling wind outside, as Wil and his friends waited nervously, time slowly passing. The storm was truly upon them now, the windows in the cabin were black, and he could hear the steady drumming of the rain against the reinforced glass.

If there was a single thing, he was thankful for, it was that his seasickness hadn’t returned.

He was about to speak to the others, to tell them that he was doing well and to ask what their next steps were, when he was cut off by a bright flash of light, followed immediately by a loud thunderclap that rattled the windows around them.

“I didn’t expect it to arrive so quickly. We may need to-” Annabelle was cut off by another flash of lightning, the thunder deafening, as the storm around them unleashed strike after strike against the beleaguered vessel.

“Wil! If you need to power the wards, can you do it from here!?” Mara shouted to be heard over the rain, wind and the rattling windows.

“Yes! Anywhere the wards run! We should all stick together from here on out, we’ll all need to take turns powering the-” Wil was cut off by another strike.

Frustrated at the constant interruptions, he took a deep breath to shout, when the cabin window behind them exploded inwards, in a spray of glass and wood, followed by a jet of water that struck Annabelle Quentin where she was sat behind her desk.

The force of the spray knocked her from the chair, sweeping her across the cabin floor. With a yell, Wil leapt from his seat, diving forward to save her.

It was at that moment that the rest of the windows shattered, and all hell broke loose on the Drake.