‘I’m surprisingly…ok?’ Gin muttered to himself as he woke up in a fresh state for the first time in a long while.
He checked his heart, which didn’t squeeze or beat in an erratic fashion for once, and his forehead for a fever that never happened. Though he did feel confused; More so than usual. He wondered how much of the dream last night was just that: a dream. He remembered everything, from the ending of the first dream where his mother attacked him to the strange Xernim1XernimA parasitical entity that sometimes benefits its host lady who spoke in strange languages and riddles. Or did I dream within a dream? Is that even possible? he questioned himself.
Stepping out of his tent didn’t help solve this conundrum as he heard the crunch of several white petals under his boot. The same white petals that belonged to the flowers in his “dream” except, upon closer inspection, they looked greyer and worn down. Either way, when did they even sprout in the first place? Gin could have sworn they didn’t exist a few days ago.
‘Maybe I lost track of time again,’ he murmured as he scouted the area.
The mages kept busy like usual. Both squadron W and O worked in unison beside the coast, preparing food, (natural) tools and other goods for ships that were meant to arrive later that day.
Gin himself got to know some of the members thanks to Wo but, aside from Astral, they all felt more like acquaintances than any sort of comradery he had with his own squadron. Not only that, all the squadron leaders were busy with their duties: Brim was training Jake, Syndra dealt with the new scouts and not even Joan of all people had time for him. All of which left him in the peculiar circumstance where he wanted to help but couldn’t just walk up and offer his assistance to his new allies.
With nothing to do, he packed up his tent while looking out for anyone in need. One, in particular, caught his eye. The same one he took note of the other day; a man of large stature, much larger than other already tall mages, with a focused glare in his eyes that took seriousness to the extreme. Black spikes grew out of the small gaps in his vine-based clothing while his hair itself grew in a buzzcut except around a scar, or rather an indent, on the back of his head and a cut on his chin. His aura just screamed an air of awe and arrogance. Not only that, amongst his peers, he looked like a unique type of mage as well. No one else came close to his design (the sudden thought of mages being “designed” to be a certain way made Gin shudder) unlike Astral who had similar features to other aquatic bestials.
Yet, despite his size and stature, he seemed to struggle to carry a collection of stone boxes toward caravans. It wasn’t because of their weight. On the contrary, they looked light even for Gin. But the fact that the behemoth of a man took on a dozen of these items caused concern. The arrangement just looked unbalanced from any angle.
Gin kept watch of him for several minutes as he finished packing up. Nothing happened during that time, leading to the belief the man knew what he was doing. However, the moment Gin looked away, a large crash brought his attention back. Lo and behold, the mage collapsed in a heap with the boxes all on the floor. To Gin’s surprise, none of the contents came out nor did the man make a peep during the whole mess, but that didn’t stop him miss the opportunity granted to him.
‘Do you need any assistance?’ Gin offered a hand, noting that no one else came to do the same for some reason.
The mage stood up, towered over him and stared with intent. Then, as nonchalant as you could be, he uttered a single ‘No.’
Gin didn’t know how to take that. Is he looking down on me? he wondered. Though with this height difference, anyone would do so. His hand dangling in front of my face for crying out loud! Speaking of which…
‘Are you sure? Your hand’s bleeding,’ Gin pointed to the trickle of red that ran down from a cut.
‘Hm?’ the giant craned his arm towards his face, squinted then brought it back down. ‘This doesn’t hurt and isn’t a problem. I still don’t want your help.’
Before Gin could say anything back, the mage turned away and began picking up his mess without anyone’s help.
‘Ah. If you say so. Sorry for bothering you,’ Gin tried to be as polite as possible as he turned away himself. He didn’t want to cause poor relations with squadron O straight away even if he didn’t like his offer getting discarded like that. Now, what do I do?
Instead of moping around, Gin decided to enjoy the scenery in his typical analytical fashion. He first inspected the coast where, unlike The Path, no walls barricaded everyone within. Not that there were no walls nearby. In fact, a couple of kilometres on either side of him, he could see the outline of the nearest ones. However, soft waves crashed against the sand in this particular area, spewing up shells and natural debris (of the slimy leafy kind). A few small insects would then climb out of their sand cover and nab the plants, consuming whatever mother nature provided for them.
All of a sudden, the critters burrowed back down and a heavy mist descended upon the area. It grew thicker and thicker until Gin couldn’t distinguish where the beach ended and the ocean started. Yet, no one else panicked. It made Gin worry that he never woke up in the first place and those around him were unreactive figments of his imagination, especially with how abnormally normal his day started.
‘Yo, you look like someone shoved an eel down your throat,’ a wet hand slapped the back of Gin’s head. ‘What’s up?’
‘Um,’ Gin turned around to find a drenched Astral. ‘You are real, right?’
‘Kek. Is this going to be how you greet me every time I catch you off guard?’
‘Huh?’
‘As real as the founder in your pants!’ Astral exclaimed with a wide grin.
Gin took a few moments to process the situation. Drips of water fell from Astral’s body and the mages (or at least the ones he could see through the mist) began walking towards the coast. Why? He couldn’t be quite sure.
‘Sorry, I’m just a bit confused. Am I missing something or is it a bit too foggy too suddenly?’ Gin asked.
‘Oh, you don’t know? Just follow me,’ Astral headed in the same direction as the other mages.
Perplexed as he could be, Gin just obeyed. As he did so, he noticed the fog dissipating to an extent. He still needed to make sure he kept up though or he would lose sight of the fishman. But what came into view blew his mind and dropped his jaw.
‘Kek. Amazing, isn’t it?’ Astral noticed Gin’s expression and chuckled. ‘This, my friend, is the SS Tanya.’
What Astral referred to was a ship but not like anything Gin had ever seen in his life before. Indeed, standing at twenty metres tall and thirty-five metres wide, the SS Tanya dwarfed the kayaks, yachts and dingeys his manush village used. However, the differences didn’t stop there. Unnatural vines of wood wrapped around the vessel like veins around a throbbing heart while water droplets shimmered on the triangular sails made out of what seemed like moss. The bark-like hull itself alternated in colour between a ghostly white and mouldy grey as if the different shades fought for dominance. Just like a ghost ship, Gin stood amazed.
‘Would you like a tour? You guys aren’t meant to get on just yet, I got special access. This is the ship I’m assigned to after all,’ Astral offered with a wink that made Gin shrivel up in disgust
‘Of course!’ Gin took the opportunity without hesitation, however.
‘Excited much?’ the fishman smirked.
‘Obviously.’
‘Let’s go then.’
They both went up a ramp that led up to the middle section of the ship with everybody else carrying on their duties down below. The higher they climbed, the more Gin felt the enormity of the vehicle in front of him. At least two hundred people could fit in its three or four levels! But where’s the entrance? Gin noticed that the end of the ramp led to a literal grey wall as the fog thinned out further.
But when Astral reached that point, he just placed his hand on it. Vines began wrapping around his webbed hands then released their grasp after a few seconds. All of a sudden, the wood deteriorated, leaving just rotten wood on the floor and a door-shaped hole in front of them.
‘Wow. It’s like my gauntlets,’ Gin joked.
‘Maybe because they are,’ Astral mocked back.
‘What?’
Before Gin could get an explanation, a pair of mages caught the pair’s attention. Both wore – or rather grew – an intricate pattern of bark like Alder’s Xernim armour except that this pair grew it out to completion, even covering their head with two singular slits for eyes. One of them appeared white in colour while the other grey which Gin linked to the different shades on the hull of the ship. As they walked, the ship’s floors appeared to sprout roots that wrapped around the feet only to disintegrate into nothingness the very next step. However, the most peculiar aspect of the duo was how the white one grabbed the grey’s (what seemed to be an artificial, wooden ear) and dragged him across the room.
‘Yo, Olive! Sokolov!’ Astral greeted the Xernim users. ‘What’s going on here?’
‘Ah, Mr Tempest,’ the white armoured one spoke with an effeminate voice. ‘Would you believe it but Sokolov here has eaten all the treats for poor Gargarensis. The poor thing must be starving by now!’
‘Kek. Why am I not surprised?’ Astral laughed.
‘Hang on. Hear me out,’ the grey one butted in with a deep masculine voice. The complete opposite of, what Gin presumed to be, the one called Olive. ‘In my defence, he’s not here. Probably outside somewhere. So, someone needed to take care of them while he was gone. I decided that the safest place was my stomach and those tasty treats won’t hop into my mouth by themselves.’
The man called Sokolov then guffawed at his remark but Olive twisted his ear further, somehow causing pain even though it looked like an artificial organ.
‘See. He does not even deny it!’ Olive complained.
‘But knowing you, you probably have extras stashed away in a secret compartment or something, right?’ Astral smirked.
‘That I do,’ Olive nodded. ‘But none for this glutton.’
‘But I want them too,’ Sokolov somehow made puppy eyes with the slits in his Xernim. ‘Astral, as my partner in crime, I urge you to help me retrieve them.’
‘I’m not helping out with anything,’ Astral denied to which Sokolov laughed some more as Olive dragged him away to the upper layers of the boat.
‘Nooo. Run. Save yourself. Leave this old bag be,’ the man cried out in melodramatic fashion along the way.
Gin stood agape again. He didn’t know what to expect from a mage’s ship but it wasn’t that for sure. Maybe he needed to anticipate such behaviour in the future or maybe this could have been a one-off.
‘What was that all about?’ Gin wanted to clarify.
‘They’re the closest thing you’ll find to an old married couple in our world,’ Astral provided a surprising analogy.
‘Is that…normal?’
Astral shrugged. ‘Probably not. We’re a weird bunch like you guys.’
No wonder the colonel chose squadron O, Gin realised. ‘What’s with the Xernim and plants growing out of the ship anyway? Don’t tell me this is a squadron O only thing as well.’
‘Oh, yeah. You probably guessed it already but this is a Xernim ship,’ the fishman began, ‘And those two are the cores of this vessel! They control everything from how it grows to how it moves to even block off doors if they wanted to.’
‘Wait. Wait. Wait,’ Gin held out a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘So, they’re the host of this place which also happens to be a living being?!’
‘Yup.’
‘Just those two?’
‘They’re the only two cores here.’
‘And you’re telling me that it takes just two people to sustain such a monster? I only have gauntlets and it’s already a tiring task to keep it alive!’ Gin raised an eyebrow.
‘Oh! They’re not feeding it like you are. They just control it. No, the feeding chambers are down below so just follow me,’ Astral called towards some stairs, grabbing a torch along the way.
Gin obliged. The first flight of steps took him to a rowing chamber where, instead of manual labour, thick branches grabbed hold of the several-dozen oars on either side. A few hammocks were placed above the rowing stations but he couldn’t find a single soul in the chamber either, prompting him to catch up to Astral and ask,
‘Don’t tell me the ship sailed itself all the way here.’
Astral raised an eyebrow (or where there would have been one since he didn’t have any), ‘Of course it did. But I know what you’re tryna say. The Xernim doing the rowing is like cruise control on your cars. When the going goes tough or we need instantaneous manoeuvres, we go for manual labour. Wasting strength on something like rowing is like using Karen the Kraken to move pebbles off the seashore.’
Not sure if that’s a manush mythology reference or the mages actually have a Kraken at their disposal, Gin pondered at that last analogy. But still, to be able to have enough energy for all this. What’s on the next floor?
The answer got blocked by a hatch at the end of the room. But before Astral pressed his hand against it, he blew out his torch. Once done, he touched the wood, it wrapped around his hand, then it melted away soon after.
All of a sudden, a putrid smell burst through the hole like a burst gas canister. It filled the room in an instant, forcing Gin to cover his nose and lurch in disgust.
‘How are you not affected by that smell?’ Gin questioned his unfazed compatriot.
‘Don’t worry. I feel it,’ the fishman responded nonchalant as possible.
‘You’re not meant to “feel” smell!’
‘Kek. Just have a look here,’ Astral beckoned.
Gin leered over the hole. He expected darkness but instead saw that the chambers below lit up with moss-like plants that glowed a fluorescent green. Then, as he adjusted to the dim lights, he saw what fueled the ship: a half-rotten, miniature whale sat there with vines piercing the beast in various places. It even broke open bones and other tough-to-break parts to make use of all that the animal offered. A whole floor all for that…
‘No wonder,’ Gin found his answer at last.
‘Awesome, right?’ Astral chuckled.
But the smell still persisted and Gin couldn’t take much more. ‘I need to get some air.’
He rushed towards the upper deck. He went past the Xernim couple, who appeared to have reconciled, and didn’t take proper note of the middle floors. However, at the very top, he enjoyed the freshness of the world up above. He no longer needed to cover his nose but the sight took his breath instead.
On the side facing the still ocean, puffs of smoke came out of the lower levels of the boat. It diffused with the rest of the air, giving it its sparkling mist. The closer he inspected, he noted that the water rippled in an unusual way.
‘The boat’s making the mist too, huh? What can’t it do?’ Gin thought out loud.
‘Salwe et hotep, herd’ an eerie voice called out to him from below.
So, it wasn’t a dream, huh? Gin looked down to find the ivory-white xernim-user staring up at him. ‘Sorry, but I don’t understand. Was that meant to be Latin?’
‘Darling, are you to tell me that you don’t understand Atlantean too?’
‘Atlantean?’ Gin raised an eyebrow.
‘Oh dear. Then it appears that I am in quite the predicament,’ the woman continued without hesitation. ‘For I have been perplexed for a while now if you neither understood Scythian, Greek or even Atlantean. Nevertheless, I do not wish to make a huge farce out of it, so may you give me the pleasure of telling me where you are from, my dear?’
Gin opened his mouth but shut it again when he realised the words that were about to come out of his mouth. He would never give out where he came from. He hadn’t done so nor even thought about doing so for the past year; Not to the colonel, not to Joan, not even himself. Yet, for a split second, he was about to do just that. Just who is this woman?
‘Ah, have you seen through my charades already?’ she looked disappointed somehow. ‘Unfortunate. If only you were in my garden like last time. Everyone’s more talkative there.’
What Gin wanted to say didn’t match up with his body’s wish to answer her question. He couldn’t even retort with a question of his own. No, if he wanted to speak then only the truth would come out. Not only that, she knew he had manush origins. It spooked him to no end.
‘You have a level of self-control that is admirable but I do wish for an answer. However, if I provide an incentive, would you be more open to speaking?’
‘Incentive?’ Gin felt relieved that he could avoid the original question.
‘Yes indeed. In the form of a name, one of my abilities which I’m using right now to no avail, and a hypothetical question that will prove quite useful in the future.’
Gin thought about the offer. On the one hand, he didn’t want to say anything to a complete stranger he only met the night before about details he kept to himself and Wo. On the other, his curiosity told him to go for it. After all, he judged the odd person as someone without malicious intent. He could also be somewhat vague about the answer too.
Just tell the truth, right? Well, not telling the full truth isn’t the same as lying, he convinced himself. ‘Very well.’
‘Splendid!’
‘I’m from nowhere special. Just a hidden village near the Bay of Bengal under the ocean. Though there really isn’t anything of note there anymore,’ Gin then cursed himself for his detailed answer.
‘My, how peculiar,’ the mage looked satisfied with the answer. ‘And as reward for such a wonderful reply, I shall bestow the name, Artemis, upon you. Yes, Artemis will do. As for my ability, I’m sure you’re astute enough to know already but I cause people to not tell a lie. Handy on most occasions, but one who knows how to keep their mouth shut is a person to be feared. As for how? That is something that I shall keep a secret. However, do not fret, my dear. I am someone who does unto others what I do myself. I can guarantee I tell the truth and only the truth. Do I make myself clear?’
Her articulate nature and how strange she sounded the whole time blew Gin away. As if what lay beneath the helmet wasn’t a tiny woman but a ferocious beast waiting to gobble him up.
‘Yes,’ he could only muster.
‘Excellent. Now for the scenario. Suppose you had a friendship with a mouse – and I say a mouse arbitrarily because your daughters told me you’re quite fond of animals in general – from a very young age. You get the gist of it, am I correct?’
Are the “daughters” my gauntlets? Gin started to understand her riddles bit by bit. Though he still didn’t know where Artemis was going with her monologue, he just nodded.
‘Good. Then I shall continue. As I was saying, you played with this mouse, grew up together and enjoyed its company the entire time. But, for whatever reason that you were simply unaware of, this mouse disappears. You’re obviously in a state of inner turmoil, yes?’
Gin nodded again.
‘However, this mouse returns. Except it isn’t alone. It comes with an army of rats. Enough to decimate whole supplies of food and your living arrangements. Yet, this very mouse you thought harmless, comes back to you; seeks forgiveness. Do you mercilessly kill it or are you the one who looks back on your good times and rescind its sins?’
‘Intention,’ Gin replied this time without a second to spare. He knew he would tell the truth but saw no harm in answering the question. In all honesty, he wanted to know what he truly thought himself for some reason.
‘Pardon?’ Artemis tilted her head.
‘Did this mouse mean to bring the rats or not?’ he clarified.
‘Would that make a difference? The rats still came and went.’
‘To me it does.’
‘Very well. I shall rectify my scenario and divide it into two separate ones. One where the mouse meant good but, of course, its intentions were never to materialise and one where the mouse meant the evil it wrought’
Gin let out a sigh before putting on a serious face. ‘If this mouse meant to do good but turned out bad, then I can forgive. I would punish it for its stupidity but I won’t be mad in the long run. On the contrary, if this mouse did it on purpose, I would kill it no doubt. I don’t care who or why, no one needs maliciousness on that level. If anything, the fact we’ve had such good times makes it worse.’
Artemis stood frozen for a moment. She blinked several times in amazement. She chuckled a chuckle that grew in sound into more of a cackle then stopped all of a sudden.
‘Malicious intent is not the same as malicious actions by the way,’ Gin added. ‘I think I’m a good example of that. I’ve…killed many things but none of them had been with ill intent despite the immoral nature of killing. Not once have I regretted it though. This mouse…if it wanted to cause harm without a legitimate reason, then I can’t forgive it.’
‘Then I fear for this mouse!’ Artemis cackle some more.
With that, she walked off into the fog, which got thicker again now that Gin realised it. He returned to his position on the edge of the boat, peering at the scenery. He let out a deep breath and contemplated the whole encounter altogether. He hated how cryptic the Xernim user could be but it made him think. She sounded like a person who says things with intent.
‘So, what was the purpose of that question at the end?’ he asked himself.
Then again, a mage who spoke multiple languages when the others didn’t understand what a single swear word meant? Impossible, surely…and yet she existed. Or did she? He wanted to say yes but a side of him said maybe no and he imagined her all up. But then how did he know how to say those languages? Was it all smokescreen for her true agenda?
‘Dammit,’ he slammed the ship with his fist.
‘Did the whale carcass get you down in the dumps too,’ Astral broke his immersion.
‘No, um,’ Gin hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to talk about what happened. ‘Do you know of a woman called Artemis who happens to be like half your size, wears a full-on Xernim armour and speaks weirdly?’
‘Are you talking about your little messenger? The one that follows you around a lot? She’s looking for you to get ready,’ Astral suggested with a shrug.
‘No,’ Gin furrowed his brows in frustration. Maybe he did imagine Artemis all along. ‘First of all, Sam’s a guy. Second, his armour is stone, not the wooden one I’m talking about. Finally – No, never mind. Forget everything I said. Let’s go back.’
‘Suit yourself.’
Gin didn’t know what to make of his strange encounters that day. Or how the past couple of months ailed his sanity to no ends. Though, despite his troubles, he looked forward to life on the ships and within squadron O regardless.
