Chương 26: New Horizon

The freed slaves gathered on the narrow strip of beach below the hidden bay. Ivan stood on the stone path above and watched them come down from the town in small groups. Some walked alone with their heads down, while others clung to each other and talked in low voices. More than one kept glancing back, as if someone might still call them back to the cages. They looked better than yesterday.

Now they had clean clothes that the townspeople had dug out of trunks, they had hot food in their bellies, and sleeping under real roofs instead of bars helped. Even so, they still moved carefully, like people who expected the world to turn mean again at any moment. Yara waited on the sand where the tide had pulled back. She wore a simpler version of her gear now, chain under a blue tunic, sword belted at her side. The sunburst on her chest caught the early light when she turned.

When the last people reached the beach, she lifted a hand.

"That's everyone," she said.

"Good." Her voice was calm, not loud, but it carried. People stopped shifting about and turned toward her. A child kept fussing until his mother picked him up and bounced him to quiet.

"You all know what we're offering," Yara went on.

"The ship is ready. We can take you across the Abyssal Sea. And we can drop you off at ports under Aurora's protection in New Europe. There are temples there, councils, people who hate the Iron Chain Consortium almost as much as you do." A man near the front stepped forward a little. Ivan had seen him working with the others last night to drag wood and water. He looked to be in his late thirties or early forties, strong shoulders, with a scar across his nose.

"What if we don't want to go?" he asked.

"Some of us have family and friends on this continent. We want to look for them." Yara nodded.

"Then you can stay. We're not going to drag anyone onto that ship." That set off a ripple. People started murmuring to each other, faces turning one way and another. Another voice rose from the side. A young woman with wolf ears and a rough bandage on one forearm stepped out of the crowd. She planted her feet like she was used to being looked at.

"Name's Kira," she said.

"I led a hunting pack before they took us. My pack is gone. My home is gone too. I'll go on the ship. I'd rather start over somewhere far away than wait for the slaver bastards to come back here." The man with the nose scar crossed his arms.

"I'm Jorik," he said.

"I'm staying. My brother had a farm north of here. If he's alive, he's there. I can't leave without checking." He looked over his shoulder at the people behind him. A few of them nodded along. Others looked torn. A rabbit woman with two small children clinging to her legs raised a hand.

"What about… work?" she asked.

"Housing? I can't sleep in alleys again with them."

"There are refugee wards in the Aurora's cities," Yara said.

"Temples that take people in. It won't be easy, but you won't be in chains. We'll give you letters to show the priests who we are and what happened here." Yara took a moment before answering each question. Ivan could tell she was measuring what the Aurora promised against what its people could actually provide. A fox‑eared man spoke up next.

"Can the Iron Chain reach us there?" he asked.

"Not easily," Yara said.

"They don't own those seas the way they own this coast. And if they try to drag people out of Aurora territory, they'll find it very expensive." She hadn't promised they would be safe. A few of the former slaves looked more frightened after hearing that, but Ivan respected her for saying it plainly. The crowd started to split without anyone saying so. Some drifted closer to Yara, toward the boats and the waiting ship. Others edged back toward the path leading up to the town and the forest roads beyond.

By the time the talking settled, maybe two thirds had chosen to board. The rest stayed clustered around Jorik, faces tight but set. Yara looked over them both, then nodded once.

"For those who stay," she said, "we leave coin and names. The Aurora has contacts in eastern ports and in some of the inland towns. They can help you find shelter, work, maybe information. For those who come with us, we'll do what we can on the other side." She didn't ask them to change their minds. She knew it was pointless to beg. She just met their eyes and let the choice sit. Ivan made his way down the steps when the questions slowed.

Sand slid a little under his boots while he crossed to where Yara stood on the edge of the group.

"That went well," he said.

"That went how it had to," she replied.

"We can't save everyone in one trip. I won't lie and say we can." She watched Kira helping an old woman with a bad leg toward the waiting boat. Then she watched Jorik talking low with a small cluster of men and women who had chosen to stay. They looked like they were already planning what to do next.

"At least they're choosing for themselves now," Ivan said.

"That's more than they had yesterday."

"Yeah, but… Choice is dangerous," Yara looked strange as she said that, as if reminiscing about something.

"People might pick wrong."

"They picked something that wasn't a cage," Ivan argued.

"I'll take that." Yara gave a small sound that might have been an agreement.

"If you're free, please help Elizabeth with the charts," she said.

"She pretends she doesn't need anyone and she's hiding it well, but Mana Zone tires her body greatly. She'd appreciate hands."

"On my way," he agreed.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. A while later, the ship felt different from the morning with so many people on it. By late morning, the smaller boats were making steady trips between shore and hull. Crates went up on slings, children went up in parents' arms, while some of the freed people clung to the rope railings with white knuckles the whole ride, but they went. On deck, Yara's people tried to bring order to the chaos.

Leo directed cargo toward the right hatches. Marcus pointed families to sleeping spaces and tried to keep the worst wounded near where he could reach them. Gareth had positioned himself near the stairs and watched everything like a guard at a city gate. Ivan walked along the starboard side, mostly out of the way, and let the noise roll over him. He wanted the rhythm of the place in his head before they sailed. The slap of waves against the hull. The creak of lines and wood. The low murmur of many conversations.

A thump near the main mast made him turn. Elizabeth had hauled a rolled‑up bundle of maps and scrolls onto a barrel and was wrestling it open. Her hair was a mess again and she had ink on her face, but her eyes were clear. The sea air seemed to be helping.

"Found their chart room," she said.

"It was very organized, which annoyed me for some reason."

"Why? And hello, I told you to call me if you have more work, what's this?" Ivan was a little annoyed, walking over. He'd just helped her earlier and told her to rest, but there she was. She made a grumbling sound and didn't say anything. She flattened one big map on the barrel and weighed the corners with whatever was nearest: a mug, a knife, a small stone. The map showed the Abyssal Sea as a big dark shape with outlines of coasts and islands around it. Lines crisscrossed it in different colors.

Some had notes like "relatively safe," others had a lot of skull symbols. Rys joined them and eyed a band of red markings that curled like a snake.

"What's that?" she looked curious.

"Leviathan range," Elizabeth said.

"Or something worse. Either way, we don't go there." She tapped a green line that cut through the map in a wide arc.

"This is our best route. We follow this current north for a while, then swing east. Estimated time if nothing goes too wrong: two to three weeks." Ivan studied the notation. Whoever had updated this had known what they were doing. Depth marks, current speeds, monster sightings by date. All of them were tidy.

"This is good information," he liked what he saw.

"We should copy it before anything happens to the originals."

"I plan to," Elizabeth agreed.

"I already stole three spares." Rys traced the route with one finger.

"I think I've sailed parts of this," she guessed.

"On the ship that brought me here. It wasn't pleasant." A bell rang near the stern. Gareth's voice followed, clear and clipped.

"All passengers on deck who want to see land one last time!" he called.

"We cast off in ten!" People began to drift toward the rails. Some hurried and some came slowly, wiping their hands on trousers or skirts. Kira appeared near the bow with two teenagers in tow. Jorik was nowhere to be seen; he'd chosen the other path. Yara took up a spot near the center of the deck, her hand resting on the railing. She didn't make another speech and just stood, watching as the lines were cast off. The ship began to move. The void drive's hum deepened. The entire hull gave a slow shudder.

The rope bindings slid off the posts, and the water between hull and shore widened. Ivan went to the stern and watched the small beach shrink. The town's roofs showed over the rocks. Somewhere beyond, the burned camp lay under a thin haze of smoke. He felt no pull to stay.

"Thinking deep thoughts again?" Yara asked as she joined him.

"Not deep," Ivan said.

"Just watching things get smaller."

"Any regrets?"

"About leaving?" he let out a short laugh.

"No. About not burning more of the Chain's property? Maybe a little." Yara's mouth twitched.

"The Aurora prefers we strike where it matters. Not burn every outpost on the way."

"I'll settle for the important targets then," Ivan said.

"You already hit one," she said.

"That General will not be easy to replace." Ivan thought of the tarp over the body in the yard.

"That's good then. All good." They stood in silence until the beach and the town were just a smudge on the horizon. The ship turned its nose fully toward the open sea.

"Once we pass the coastal shelf," Yara said, "things will get stranger. If anything looks wrong, tell Elizabeth. Don't try to fix it alone."

"I'll try to be good," he said.

"Try harder than that," she replied. She left him then to talk to Marcus and Leo about watch rotations. Ivan stayed a little longer, letting the steady vibration of the ship's heart settle into his bones. It was different from marching miles on bad roads, but his body was already learning the rhythm. Two or three weeks of this, then Asterion. The promise of change.

By the next morning, the coast was just a faint line behind them when the light hit it right. Ivan came up on deck and walked along the starboard side. The air smelled cleaner out here, less of smoke and more of salt. The ship moved with a steady, confident roll. Near the bow, Rys leaned on the rail again. This time he almost didn't recognize her. The shrine maiden was gone. In her place stood someone who might have been stepping off a poster for "adventurer chic."

Her white top fit closely and left a strip of throat above its high collar, while a brown coat hung loose from her shoulders. Her shorts ended high on her thighs, with a leather belt carrying several little pouches. Someone had apparently sold her a pair of aviator goggles too, and those now sat over her pink hair. Seagulls wheeled overhead and screamed at the world. The wind caught Rys's coat while Ivan stared at her. If he saw her sitting outside some café, he might have mistaken her for a college girl.

Ivan walked up beside her.

"Whoa, don't you look…" he started, but the way she raised her eyebrow was like a warning. He cleared his throat, "Different. Interesting choice for a priestess." Rys stared at him.

"Is that good interesting or bad interesting?" she asked.

"Good," he said.

"Very good. Just not what I expected from a shrine priestess."

"What, are you saying I'm too old to wear this?" she gave him a dry look.

"Give me a break, I could barely wear my old clothes, they're so torn. The town had a decent shop," she went on.

"They did their best with what they had. Apparently this is what people wear now when they travel."

"The goggles are your idea?" he asked.

"Yes?" she dared him to challenge her fashion sense.

"The sun is bright on the water. And the wind is annoying. This helps."

"They suit you," Ivan said.

"You look like you own the ship." Her tail twitched at that.

"You were about to say something stupid before," she said.

"Something about universities and college girls."

"Was I? What the hell, I don't recall," he looked into her blue eyes. He was surprised she knew about universities and college girls of this world, given that both were history, but it was his fault for assuming she didn't know anything. Rys huffed, but a small smile tugged at her mouth.

"At least you're smart enough to catch that mouth." He leaned his elbows on the rail and looked out over the water with her. The horizon was a clean line of dark blue. Beyond that lay monsters and storms and, maybe, Asterion.

"You feel strange in those clothes?" he asked.

"I feel like I should be at a café instead of on a warship," she said.

"But I'll adjust. Clothes are just cloth. What matters is who's wearing them."

"Who's wearing them is still the Guuji who danced under moonlight," Ivan said.

"The Chain didn't burn that." Rys went quiet for a moment.

"Careful," she said.

"If you keep saying things like that I might start liking you."

"You already like me," he said.

"You just don't want to admit it in front of the kids." Her ear flicked in his direction.

"Don't push it, human, you're talking too much lately," she eyed him with a playful look. The ship continued across the open water. Ahead lay weeks of sea before they reached Asterion.