Chương 54: Chapter 53 - Driftwood Journey.

"I knew about Veymur, but what do you mean primordial? Those things sleeping deep in the islands caves?" she yawned, stretching her arm into the air. She could swear Talvik was glaring through her skull.

"We will have to do something about your lack of an education. It is unsuitable for an empress to lack such a thing" he continued staring through her, unmoving. She snorted "Empress? I'm the Queen I guess, but only of a tiny island in the middle nowhere" she collapsed down into the sheets "I'm busy tomorrow, go take your platitudes somewhere else" … The cold winds of the eastern sea ruffled her hair, leaving her shivering. This place has been a tropical paradise until now, where in Hel is the chill coming from?

A stack of smoke rose in the distance, not far. The location of lunch marked for all to see. Wide cross sections of trees were distributed as stools, with tables made of stone that seemed to grow out of the ground. A small throng of entirely old men in farming gear dominated the clear, warmed by the emerald-red fire that manifested out of thin-air in a pit, billowing a great plume of smoke upwards. She was guided through the crowd by a hobbling old farmer with a giant stalk of grain as a walking stick.

"Sit here" he stood before a stool in the center of the long table, facing towards the fire. Before her was a lavish feast, golden bread and meats she had never smelled before strewn in a dozen great platters across the table. A wizened old man with a great white beard, split into two tails took the seat across from her, the last one standing.

"By Kronan, enjoy Geld of the last harvest so that you may carry the luck into the next""By Kronan" The table chanted in unison. A bloodbath began, meat skewered from two yards away by extending walking sticks, food tossed across the table at adversaries, curses flew.

"Eat, eat your fill Miss Queen" the man next to her thrust a steak half as big as her head onto her plate. It was followed by a quarter roll of cheese equal in size. Are they trying to kill me? Where do they expect me to put this? She rolled up her sleeves. To war! This is a lot better than field rations. By the time she managed to cut off several slabs of meat and had one half-way jammed into her mouth, they were ready to talk.

"So miss, what do you think of our farmland out here" the wizardly old man asked nonchalantly, more focused on a strip of pork than her. It's just fucking farmland, what do they want me to say? She shrugged "it makes good food". He nodded as if she had just spoken words of great wisdom.

"So, what was Damien like? I heard that rat bastard had four arms" the man next to her elbowed her hard enough she nearly spit out the steak.

"He was exactly as you describe, four arms, and he was really ugly" Nythera replied. Another elbow found its way into her ribcage.

"We owe you mighty thanks for Mistvale, with pines coming up from down south we can finally build some more ships, lord knows we need em" he chuckled with a mouth full of food.

"Hey miss what about that Gideon fellow?" another called across the table. … Four hours of war stories and personal questions later, she was nearing the end of the rope. If I have to deny another engagement proposal to someone's great, twice removed nephew I'm going to throw myself into the river.

"Hey Nyth, lets go, Lance is waiting with a bunch of weirdos at the docks, well he will be waiting I don't think he's there yet, so we really need to get going, because he will be waiting and when I make him wait too long he makes me do stupid shit, like that one time-" Leo shut his mouth. If he can save me from another marriage proposal, I don't even care anymore.

"Let's go, Leo, as you say we have no more time." she turned to the old men still half-way through the bread "I'll be going now, as Leo said, Lance will be waiting, so there's really no more time" she bowed slightly. The wizened old man, who had not spoken a word since, nodded. They departed with haste, bolting for the docks.

"Who was that old man Leo? Why did Lance make me meet these people?" she asked.

"Those are the old farming geezers, the guy with the funny beard is the oldest guy on the island, he was the mayor many many mayors before Noah" Leo kicked a rock off the road. He looked up "Oh yeah" and smacked his fist into his palm "Shelly said she can't come with you this time because she doesn't want to "get mixed into more Nythera-specific accidents" but don't worry, Rowen is coming to make sure you "don't die in Nythera-specific accidents"" Leo shotgunned out in rapid succession.

The docks were abuzz with new ships being built, wood floated through the air at the behest of a small army of woodmancers. A single ship lay in the water. Leo leaned in and whispered to her "I should warn you, the Sea Queen is still stuck and they haven't figured out how to move it yet, so they found you the only thing that still floats" he had an apologetic look on his face. The Racing Rat"You have got to be kidding, I asked for a ship not driftwood" she muttered under her breath.

No planks were missing from the hull, but a lot were bent, the single mast was low, and patched in several places with support log, including three that jutted up from the deck itself. Leo shrugged "at least the weather is nice, if you went out on Wrath in this I think you would die in under five minutes.

Oh your shells are by the gangplank, I got them from Borris this morning, apparently they worked all night, he did say something about an express service charge" Leo leaned against the ship as he spoke, causing one of the planks to bend inwards. She heard a snort behind her "Nythera, my father has offered to consider educating you on basic etiquette and history, but I'm not sure you are worthy of it anymore.

Venturing with such a vessel is the pinnacle of rash behavior" She turned her head and snickered back "Hey Rowen, woke up on the floor this morning?"

"Your prestigious mentor has already commandeered the vessel, you can find him above deck" he patted her shoulder and continued down the dock. Yeah thats right, go off and do whatever snobby noble brats go do at marinas. Nythera shoved every last shell straight into Boxy, Borris had done an outstanding rush job and all nineteen Quartz Ordinances were finished to perfection. Perfect, except for a note tacked onto the side of the cart.

"The leftover scraps are going to be used as a down payment on your debt. Return to my shop when you are ready to repay your substantial debt. There is interest." Interest? He's crazy if he thinks I'm paying that. I'll just have to come back with some weird monster parts for him and he'll let me off the hook. [35 Quartz Ordinances] Now that is a LOT of shells, between that and the Thanaphyte rounds, the Heavy shells and the single???

shell I have left, I'd say my arsenal has finally expanded to something my ancestors would be proud of. Onboard, Halt stood silently at the prow, with Talvik watching over from the top of the crooked mast.

"Miss Queen, the ships stocked with supplies and ready to go" A sailor saluted, then bowed deeply. Well I don't know etiquette anyways. So it might as well be right.

"Let's be off then, we have a lead on the north side of the island, how long will it take us to get there?" she asked. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

"About a day, depending on the winds, but with the state of the sail it could take longer" the sailor reported with another salute. Another sailor walking by with a box of rope chipped in "If the hull takes so much as a tap it could turn into weeks on the beach for repairs". He tried to salute and the box came crashing down.

"Excuse me, Queen" he bowed, and shuffled away with the box without turning away from her "it's rude to put yer back to royalty" he muttered in a chant. This is going to be a problem, did someone put them up to this? Lance? No… Rowen. Speaking of which Rowen was currently staring into the horizon off the starboard gunwale, as if in a contemplative trance. She snorted.

The Racing Rat was gingerly escorted out of harbor, careful that none of its less-than-robust sides accidentally scraped into anything that could sink her and they cast off under the direction of the two sailors. Rowen remained where he stood, as if in deep thought, the entire time. I know what he wants.

"So Rowen, nice weather isn't it?" And I'm not going to give it to him.

"Passable I suppose" he stood like a monk, never breaking his gaze from the horizon. Now Nythera stood with him.

"Perchance, Miss Nythera, would you happen to be privileged to know where the heading might be set to?" Rowen asked.

"Perchance, I might be" she answered with the biggest shit-eating grin on her face.

"Perchance, might you be aware precisely why the heading is set to this aforementioned location?" Rowen continued, his attempt to remain steadfast showing cracks.

"Perchance I might" she said. Not getting anything out of me. She walked off to watch Grandport slowly shrink into the distance, the city was a bustle of activity with no less than three full ships being constructed. Hopefully this year we can keep the fleet intact. A small white dot at the end of the dock, drew her attention, for it had not been there for before. She pulled on [Precision-sight] and identified it as a target. Her peripherals shrank as her vision zoomed. The priest of Veymur stood alone. Watching.

Creepy old guy, why the fuck are the religions so interested? First the Tianshiang inquisitor, then the murderous cult, and now the actual Assembly of Kronan's first circle god, Veymur. She sighed. A problem for another time. Hopefully. … The Racing Rat was designed to torment her and all who sailed on it, at least she was convinced so. Sixteen times.

Sixteen times she had to course correct and drag the ship back, despite the best efforts of the sailor, the shoddily supported mast was incredibly hard to work because of all the supporting rope and beams. The steering chain existed… in theory, but the rudder's response was half-assed most of the time. As long as we don't turn again it'll be fine. From south of the peninsula at Myrravals bottom left corner, they could make out the Stormbridge estate.

Stone-hewn walls rose many floors above the base which rest on sea cliffs. Stone docks lay at the base, with no clear passage to the top of the cliffs. That's not a regular estate, that castle is at least five stories tall, he had stonemancers work this. Wait. This has survived God's Wrath for how long? And it still looks like that? Rowen watched his estate pass from the deck, conflicted emotions playing across this face. So not a happy family, got it.

"If Father has his way they will be constructing the Clock tower soon" he mumbled to no one. Amplewood's docks were mostly repaired, both sides of the peninsula had bustling marinas and several fishing dinghies out on the water. Myrraval is healthy and recovering. MY Myrraval. Even Rustreach, as they worked their way up the western side of the island, was alive. I guess Aldric, as shitty as he is, can do something.

I should probably have someone check by at some point to make sure he's not trying to contact dead gods on the moon. Off the port gunwale, a storm raged in the distance, red and blue flux visible to the naked eye streaked through the sky violently. One island of fire, one of lightning, and the intersection of the two, the Volk-volt Maw. Yet I'm going to have to get near that thing if I want to get to the Aetherite forges.

"That storm has sunk far far more ships than you can imagine" Halt said, staring off into the abyss.

"How? I mean it looks deadly enough, but why in Hel would you ever sail near it?" She asked incredulously.

"The Maw can move. Fast. It occasionally sputters out and when it reappears it can show up anywhere within a hundred miles of the intersection point." Halt sighed. He turned towards her "Keep away from it, if you get pulled into the upward vortex, not even I or Talvik could pull you out. God's Wrath has nothing on that tempest." the weight of lived experience carried through his tone. Got it, avoid the deadly fiery maw of doom.

"But what about those islands?" Directly off the portside there was a chain of distant, but not-so-distant smaller islands she could make out.

"That'd be King's Reef, milady" a sailor joined them on the deck "The biggest reef in the lands is out there, prime fishing spot, it's all part of Myrraval" he said, gnawing on a loaf of hard bread. That's my domain as well? Those islands sound useful, though I suppose it'd be hard to protect during Wrath. The sun coasted down the sky as they made way north, eventually giving way to night under the shattered moon. In the distance far ahead lay yet another island she knew nothing of.

But off the starboard side, the sea-cliffs of northern Myrraval dominated the coast.

"Bring the ship about, we head for the cliffs, I want to get a closer look" Nythera barked orders. It's a shipyard, so it should be right on the coast, how did no one find it before?

"Milady, I beg your pardon, but I don't think getting closer than we must would be wise" the sailor at the helm said.

"Why is that? The objective is right there." she said.

"Approaching those sea-cliffs at night is risky business, fluxspawn, rocks, anything could sink this raft, best we get just close enough that the anchor can reach rock and wait till dawn" She nodded. I have no idea why I'm doing, do I?

"Alright, bring us in then, let's do that". On no less than four occasions the crew had to rush to patch holes in the hull while they slept and the Racing Rat was noticeably deeper in the water by the morning. … The morning sun beckoned to both her greed and desperation. There better be something that can float in that shipyard, if there's nothing but half-built ships we will have to walk back, that could take well over a week!

Raising the anchor, they continued along the rocky coast, the cliff's slowly climbing in height as they went. It'd be impossible to build a decent town here, no spot for a port or fishing ships, even if it does protect against Wrath.

"How long do these cliffs go on for?" she muttered to the sailor.

"I don't know, never been this far north, but I've heard tell the weather up here is nastier, something about Cyclones" he replied and spat over the deck. The cliffs quickly bored her, rising stony black sea-walls was hardly the excitement she expected of an Aurendorian shipyard. Maybe it's been wiped out by the passing of time? It would have to endure God's Wrath every year for thousands of years… it's probably gone.

"Aho! Something spotted!" A sailor called. Nythera's head snapped to follow his finger. Huge inset black doors lay halfway up the cliffside, barely visible against the surrounding stone. As they pulled closer to the cliffs, the doors got bigger and bigger, until it became apparent that they were shipsized. This is definitely it. Only… The top of their mast did not even reach the bottom of the doors. The only thing on those cliffs were dozens of nests for croaking lizigeons. They seemed disturbed by their presence.

"Is there any way to scale these cliffs?" She asked no one in particular.

"We will have to go back and find a spot we can pull ashore, we did not bring much for climbing supplies and the waters near it are too dangerous to approach" Rowen said. Rowen coughed twice.

"I believe my family estate could have what we need, if we just returned there we could get a new ship and supplies" Rowen suggested. As if I'm going to fall for such blatant tactics. Halt's stoney steps thundered on the deck "Finally, time to get a real ship" he said. Nythera's feet left the deck, her cloaking choking her. Huh, what? Am I being lifted?

"Up you go, we don't have time to waste on dithering around with rope" Halt said. Wind rushed past her as she hurtled upwards in a spin.

"FUCK YOU!" She screamed back as she screamed up the cliffside. And then she fell. Slamming into the grassy cliff, she rolled down the slope, coming to a stop as a crumpled heap. I AM GOING TO KILL HIM Screams pierced the air and seconds later Rowen landed not even three feet from her.

"By thunder, when my father hears of this…" Rowen grumbled. Halt landed with far more grace than a man plated in stone had any right to, tearing up delicate grass underfoot as he slammed down at the top of the cliffside.

"The entrance should be around here, those were hanger doors, not the entrance. Pulling herself off the ground Nythera joined them in searching for the door, the grass hillside sloped down into woods and a small creak at the bottom. Talvik found the door in well under a minute, circling above it. A pitch-black stone structure jutted straight out of the hillside, given the time, the nearly four foot gap between the door and the ground was not unexpected.

Nor the giant oak sitting squarely on the top of the entry, roots nearly hiding the sign.

"Myrraval Northeast Shipyards" And there's the familiar blood lock. Talvik darted in front of Rowen's face as she opened the door.

"Get this blasted thing off me! Wait! I want to see how you open the door-" The rest of his speech turned to nonsense as he fought with the vastly superior avian. Finally! A chance for a real, tangible victory, something everyone can see! I hope it has a lot of cannons, maybe I'll get lucky and it'll have some kind of anti-kraken lure. The doors opened wide. Or tried to. Why is the door jammed?