The Gaiden Chapters

Chapter 35: The Song of Storms part 2

As any mariner would tell you, the sea is unpredictable. Head into a seaside bar and all the sailors would be more than happy to regale you with a tale or two of some close encounter. Often they will try to outdo each other to see which man had survived the most harrowing event. Man eating mermaids, leviathans, sirens, krakens, sea sprites, sharks, and many more phenomena would inevitably appear. While most of them could be passed off as fanciful nonsense there is one topic that always sobers up even the drunkest of seamen, storms. Any landlubber who laughed at how serious they became when the topic was brought up had never been on a boat during a storm. On land the mightiest could be weathered but out on the open ocean there was nowhere to hide. Even the smallest of gales could shape the waves into a force powerful enough to sweep sailors off the deck to their briny doom. Some would last for days on end; others had enough power to rip the mast from a ship like a kid shredding a twig in half, on rare occasions they could create towering water tunnels capable of ripping a war ship to splinters in seconds.

Basilio had weathered many storms in his life. He had been to every sea, from the Oul Raye Sea north of Feroxi where the brutal winter storms could pelt the decks with ice sharp enough to stab a man to death, to the bubbling tides of Orothe off the coasts of Chon'Sin where the sky was constantly lit up with an endless barrage of lightning bolts. Still, in all his years as a pirate he had never once seen a storm take shape like the one Ursula called down. It was almost as if her song had blotted the sun out of the world, one moment he could see the Valmese ships bearing down on them not thirty miles away and the next moment he couldn't see his hand in front of his face. There was a jolt and he could feel the ocean roil under the ship's deck lifting it up a few feet before dropping it back down with a whump. A single crack of lightning lit up the scene in front of him and he could make out the hoary white foam of the waves as they began to grow in size.

"All hands on deck!" he shouted over the reverberating thunder "Get that mast down! Prepare the oars!" His commands awoke the stupefied pirates out of their shock and they began to race about the deck. All of them ignored Ursula who was as still as a figurehead despite all the rocking. Her face was contorted into a mask of concentration and a small bead of sweat was rolling down her face.

Was yea ra pauwel en wael yor.

She grit her teeth as the words seemed to rattle around in her head. She had not been expecting it to cost this amount of effort. Yet she knew that if she couldn't keep this up the force she was communing with would swallow the entire fleet.

Wee paks ga chs mea?

As she continued to sing the storm began to get worse and worse. As the lightning crashed down around them Basilio could see the water in front of them beginning to churn about in a horrifyingly familiar pattern. 'A whirlpool!' Growling he swung the wheel about and had his first mate rouse the rowers. "We need to turn hard to the right!" he shouted. In the gloom of the storm Basilio watched as the oars dipped into the water. They managed to steer away from the lip of the whirlpool just in time. In the distance he watched as one of the Valmese ships began to sink in the distance, the gold and green flag of the Valmese spinning atop the mast. The khan's could feel his entire body lock up, there was more than on whirlpool out there. As if that wasn't bad enough the waves were getting bigger with each passing second. With a heave one of the smaller ones partially lifted Basilio's ship into the air. Thankfully they didn't capsize but it did sent a worrying amount of water sweeping across the deck. While the soldiers grabbed at ropes and the railing to stop themselves from being tossed overboard Ursula wasn't so lucky. The impact had sent her bouncing off the railing and tumbling over the side. Blindly her hand lashed out transforming into the Claws of Grima. Sinking deep into the wood of the ship Ursula managed to stabilize herself just in time.

Echrra en chs ar dor.

Was paks ga chs na mea, she sang back flinching as the waves smashed her against the ship.

en paul yor yora harton mea...

Faura, cexm here, shellan mea

Fowrlle art fluy, presia sonwe?

Yorr faf, so

Was ki ga faf so. It was galling to admit it but yes, she was scared. Pinned to the ship and totally drenched in brine there was little Ursula could do to save herself. Another wave smashed against her flooding her mouth and nostrils with sea water. Sputtering she took a massive breath trying to keep herself from drowning. Suddenly there was a yank on her arm and someone grabbed her wrist and pulled her back onto the deck of the ship.

"Are you ok?" he shouted at her, his voice almost swallowed by the storm's cacophony. It was too dark for him to see her Claws.

Switching back to her human hands Ursula nodded "Yes! I'll be fine." Gripping the railing she began to pull herself back to the prow of the ship. When she reached it she braced herself as the sea sang back to her.

Yorr hierle?

Was ki ga hierle She hesitantly sang back. The fact that it could read her so well was getting pretty unnerving. Those feelings didn't matter; the ancient past couldn't be changed no matter what, even if she wanted it to. The sea punished her stubbornness with a massive wave that slammed into the side of the ship. She staggered backwards and slammed into something hard. Basilio's massive arms wrapped around her "Keep singing!" he yelled at her.

Mea paul yor

Was ki ga paul yor Pressed up against up Basilio's chest Ursula shivered as she was drenched from head to toe by the rain and the waves. While she was communing with it Basilio tied her down with a piece of rope. He was about to secure himself when the ship was picked up by a wave. Caught in its surf the ship began to tilt backwards making Basilio lose his footing. Sliding across the rain drenched deck he scrabbled for purchase on anything in reach.

The lightning lit up the sky long enough for Basilio to notice Ursula's horrified face as he rolled across the deck. "Basilio!" she called to him reaching her hand.

"I'll be ok!" he promised.

She didn't have time to argue. The ocean was already on the next stanza.

Yorr nille mea

Yorr desfel

If this wasn't a dangerous situation she would have laughed. That was like asking if the sky was blue. No hesitation here. Was ki ga desfel

As the ship continued to ascend into the sky Basilio managed to grab onto the mast. Twisting about he looked to see what the hell his first mate was doing. A brief flash of lightning revealed his body slumped over the wheel, from the blood leaking down his forehead. It looked like one of the waves had smacked him against the wheel leaving him unconscious. If someone didn't take control they were going to capsize!

Letting go of the mast Basilio slid on his back down the deck all the way to the rear of the whip. Since the wheel was on a higher level of the ship and getting up the stairs to it was going to be impossible with the ship practically vertical at this point the khan was going to have to find an alternate route. As he passed by the wheel he grabbed the railing and pushed forward. Grabbing a piece of rope that was tying down some supplies he hoisted himself up onto the deck where the wheel was. With one more jump he was at the wheel just in time to save his first mate from toppling backwards into the ocean. Quickly righting the ship he sighed in relief as the boat safely crested the wave.

Unfortunately while the boat was safe Ursula wasn't doing so hot. This direct connection with the ocean was really beginning to wear her down. Even worse, the sea knew it was winning and had begun to mock her about it. Yorr ween shell?

She grit her teeth. Was ki ga ween shell. She shook her head, it didn't matter. Even if she was trapped in this puny body her power was strong enough to see her through this.

As if things couldn't get worse there was a snap and the sail began to unfold. With the wind at its back it swelled up sending the boat lurching forward. The figurehead on Basilio's boat was low enough to actually touch the surface of the ocean. "Shit!" Basilio swore tying the wheel down. He had to be quick, if he left it alone unattended for too long they were going to get swept away by the storm for sure. Jumping onto the deck from the raised platform he slogged through the pool of seawater accumulating on deck and made his way to the mast. With surprising agility he began to climb up as high as he could jumping from foothold to foothold. He knew this ship like the back of his hand so even with the lashing rain partially blinding him it was an easy climb. Quickly tying down the sail he braced himself as the ship lurched back into equilibrium. Unfortunately his footing wasn't quick as sure as he would have liked, the rain slicked beams made him slip off the mast. Flailing about he grabbed a hanging piece of rope and wound it about his hand. Basilio kicked off the mast with his feet sending him out over the ocean as he headed back toward the wheel. As he flew he noticed something lodged in one of the whirlpools. His heart stopped at the very sight of it.

The memory was sharp despite him being no more than seven or eight at the time. He had just decided to join a crew, his father had died raiding the Chon'Sin coast and his mother was already working as hard as she could to earn enough bread to feed six other mouths along with his. Even as a child Basilio had been larger than most and with the naïve foolishness only a child could have he decided to become a sailor. Naga had been watching over him, instead of joining up with some cut throat crew he managed to become a cabin boy for a genial bunch of merchants looking to trade with Roseanne. There was one sailor in particular, a wizen old man affectionately called Sharkbait by the others, who had taken it upon himself to watch out for Basilio. He taught the young khan everything there was to know about being a sailor.

Now Sharkbait was one of the last of his kind in more ways than one. He had been a very young child back when Regna Ferox was still splintered into tribes. He had gone on raids up and down the Ylissean coasts pillaging and raping, the epitome of the Feroxi berserkers of old. While the rest of the country was switching to Naga worship he observed the old ways. Ever since they had arrived in the frigid wastelands they called home the Feroxi had worshipped the earth itself. Fire, Earth, Water, and Air: these were the gods the Feroxi had chosen to pray to. For centuries they had adhered to their brand of worship but times had changed. Since the unification of the tribes the Feroxi realized that being friends with Ylisse had many more benefits than being enemies. It hadn't been easy but eventually they had managed to form a relationship that was mutually beneficial to the both of them.

With Regna Ferox within its sphere of influence and cultural attitudes beginning to change more and more clansmen ditched nature worship for Naga. By the time Basilio was on the scene only a scant few kept the old ways. Unheeding of the glares his fellow crewmates sent him Sharkbait would teach Basilio about the proper way to pray to the spirits as well as the lore and the sacred rites. While he would never be a very religious man Basilio did feel a sense of patriotic pride whenever he watched the old man pray to the ocean. If they were back in port Sharkbait would take Basilio up to the bluffs a few miles away. There was a small shrine there carved out of seastone and the old man would usually pray for a safe journey there before heading out to sea. Even though it was puny compared to the grand temples of Naga in Ylisstol there was something spiritual about it. Every time he would accompany the old man there Basilio could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as he listened to the old man chant his prayers in Old Feroxi.

Aside from the altar there was a crude fresco carved on the shelf of rock overlooking the shrine. The weather had worn most of it away; even the old man did not know what it depicted. From what they could make out it was a maritime scene. Several boats were crossing the ocean, Feroxi longboats by the looks of things. It was common knowledge that the descendants of the Feroxi had crossed over from the Valm continent after the Schism. While the young khan figured it was a story of the Feroxi first landing in Regna Ferox there was a strange detail that Basilio didn't understand at first. They were being lead by some sort of monstrous titan that looked like it was walking through the ocean. The longboats trailed in its wake while the titan's arm stretched out towards some other part of the fresco that had been destroyed.

"That boy," the old man said pointing to the figure "Is Nerifes, god of the ocean. He exists underneath the waves and is responsible for the storms and the tides. Back in the day he was the patron element of us sailors."

"So did everyone have a patron element?" young Basilio had asked squinting at the figure.

"Yar, the farmers would worship the Earth, the blacksmith would worship the Fire, and the astrologers would worship the Air." Sharkbait explained "That's not to say ya only worshipped one. I pray to Fire whenever it gets cold and to Air for a calm steady wind to drive us to our destination. But for everyone there is one element that is a part of them more than the others." He jabbed a finger into Basilio's chest "You and me, kid. We'll always be more of the Water than the rest. It's who we are, what we've chosen to become. That's the thing about worshipping Naga, she's not within you. Her worship is less intimate that way." The old man sighed "I'm glad that things are changing but I worry. What if we forget the songs of out grandfathers? What if we choose to be Ylisseans instead of Feroxi?" He rubbed Basilio's head "Don't you ever forget, boy, you're a man of Regna Ferox first and foremost."

Basilio had never forgotten that conversation. While Flavia could call him an oaf all she wanted they both wanted to protect the Feroxi way of life more than anything else. While he had put stock in what the old man told him regarding how to read the tides and how to tie knots Basilio had forgotten the name Nerifes until this very moment. As he hovered above the dark churning waters of the whirlpool he glanced down into the maw of it. There, enveloped in the very center of the funnel, was the massive titan he had seen on the fresco of the seastone shrine. It was unlike anything Basilio had ever seen or would see again. Its body was made up of dark water that seemed to glow with a cerulean light. There was a bright, multicolored gem that connected its upper torso to its lower torso, from afar it looked like a giant pearl. All matter of sea life swam within Nerifes and the froth from its body created its head. Two shark like obsidian eyes stared up at Basilio while its mouth churned with song.

Faura, cexm here, shellan mea

Fowrlle art fluy, presia sonwe

Whai yorr re heighte so?

sash fwillra, ween papana

yorr rete yasra fhyu

En yorr re deggeez art ciel

Its words resonated through Basilio almost making him lose his grip on the rope. Lightheaded he watched as the creature disappeared from view as he swung back to the ship. Standing on the fore deck he noticed that Ursula looked like she was about to collapse. Running up to her he grabbed her and threw one of her arms over his shoulder. "Hang in there," he growled "you've got this."

Panting Ursula just answered him with a single nod. She was not about to get swallowed by some feckless peon!

Mea irs here aulla omnis

Sarla irs sphilar aulla omnis

Whai firle hierle so?

Ween shellan, re kyll fwal

elle nnoi na haf yasra wharn

En mea re deggeez art ciel

na siss cupla

ides loss bautifal sarla

With one last aria Ursula put it to rest. The ocean became calm once again. As the first few rays of the sun broke through the dark clouds above Basilio watched as Nerifes sank back into the sea. In front of him was the Valmese fleet or, more accurately, the remnants of them. Their once proud masts had been torn into splinters while the sharks combed the floating wreckage feasting on the corpses of drowned sailors. There was a moment of awe, his mind stopped and all he could do was stare dumbfounded at the scene in front of him trying to process what had just happened. He snapped out of his thoughts when he caught Ursula as she fell onto the deck of the ship completely exhausted by the ordeal. Gasping he bent down and picked her up in his arms. "Hey," he said hoarsely "Are you ok?"

Ursula nodded which sent little rivulets of blood cascading down her head "I'll be fine…I just need to rest." She grunted as a nasty migraine began to knife its way through her head. "That was harder than I was expecting."

Basilio couldn't control himself; he had to know "What the hell was that?" He asked her, his voice no more than a fierce whisper. Then an even better question came to mind "Who the hell are you?!"

She just smiled which caught him off guard. Ursula didn't smile, if she was feeling amused by something she gave a nasty little smirk that oozed smugness. Her smile was small but it was pretty and softened the angular lines of her face. Reaching up she patted him on the cheek "That is for me to know and you to wonder about." She said giving him sass before being the elegant lady of mystery she was and passing out in his arms.

Basilio sighed, he was worried. It suddenly dawned on him he knew very, very little about her and that he had been so very cavalier in not caring what he knew about her was really biting him in the ass at the moment. Curious he turned around, the Valmese had been completely wiped out but who knew what sort of shape the Coalition's fleet was in? Climbing back up to the wheel he grabbed his spyglass from the hook on his belt and peered through it. To his amazement all the ships were accounted for! They sported a little wear and tear bit all in all they were alright. 'It's a miracle,' the khan thought unable to believe his eyes.

The rest of his crew thought so too. Realizing they weren't going to die they crawled out of the nooks and crannies they had hid in to say their last prayers and polish off their lasts flasks of grog they walked around in a daze. Eventually a cheer went up which was joined by another then another until the entire crew were screaming like a bunch of idiots. Life was sweetest right after a near death experience and what better way to celebrate life than a party? Before he could even blink Basilio watched as a party broke out on board. The little bit of food and grog they could spare was brought up from the hold while someone found a fiddle and began to sing some pretty raunchy sea shanties. Glancing back behind him Basilio could see the other ships following suit. While the sailors partied the Ylisseans and Plegians thanked their respective gods. While they couldn't burn sacrifices on the wooden ships both Chrom and Lino addressed their men and gave sermons.

As he watched them chant sacred prayers and observe the proper rites a part of him wanted to shout at them they were thanking the wrong people. It had been Ursula who had created that miracle, not some distant goddess who was deaf to their prayers. The other part made him to his captain's quarters afraid someone had seen what she had done. Once he was safely inside he placed her down on his cot and checked her wounds. Aside from extreme exhaustion and a few small stress wounds on her head she was fine. After he wrapped her head he sat down next to her and crossed his legs and arms. There were so many questions he had had banging around in his head and he knew he wouldn't be getting any answers any time soon. Whether it was the prospect that this mystery was far from over or his adrenaline was wearing off Basilio was suddenly hit by an intense wave of fatigue. Grabbing the spare blanket from the trunk at the foot of his cot he balled it up into a pillow and lay down on the floor next to Ursula.

Try as he might things were different between them for the rest of the trip. Basilio knew Ursula was hiding something from him but whenever he tried to get some sort of information from her she would clam up and refuse to talk to him. A sense of distrust began to grow in his heart and Basilio began to distance himself from the tactician. Ursula must have sensed this because she gave him the cold shoulder; aside from a few frigid words exchanged between the two of them on everyday matters they avoided each other.

After what seemed like an eternity they finally made it to Valm. With the coast in sight it really began to sink into the soldiers the monumental task they were undertaking. The former cheer they had enjoyed before quickly disappeared, leaving their expressions gaunt and grim. As she observed their dour moods Ursula felt like laughing and screaming. How quickly the memory of a miracle faded! Recognizing the shift in attitude as detrimental to moral both Lino and Chrom rushed about trying to bolster the flagging spirits of their men. Surely, they exclaimed, their respective goddess was with them since she had delivered them to these shores unscathed? That helped but what really did the trick was the flag flying from one of the ships docked in a nearby port town.

"That's the flag of Roseanne!" Virion exclaimed as he used a spyglass to get a better look. "So they managed to secure this town."

"Who?" Chrom asked.

"The Resistance," Virion explained "It is made up of the factions that still oppose Walhart. While they're countries are under his thumb they continue to fight on from the shadows." He placed a hand over his breast "Many of my countrymen have joined the Resistance as well as a large amount of Chon'Sin. There are others but those two groups make up the core of the Resistance."

Chrom felt a tad relieved "I was worried we wouldn't be getting any reinforcements."

"Ah, I would not start thanking Naga just yet." Virion cautioned him as he compressed the spyglass and stuffed it back into his jacket. "Walhart is no fool. The soldiers he didn't kill in his war or brought over to his side through force have been laboring away in the mines and lumberyards to fuel his empire's economy. The Resistance, while valiant, is still very small. From the reports I've gotten our own army outnumbers theirs five to one."

Chrom sighed, so much for help. Lino wasn't so easily discouraged. "They know the lay of the land and perhaps even have some intelligence on Walhart's movements. They may be small but they will be a blessing to us."

As the ships docked along the coast the Resistance fighters came swarming out of the town to greet them. Once they were off loaded Chrom, Lino, both khans, Sully, Frederick, and Ursula were escorted to the mayor's house. Apparently the townspeople weren't thrilled that the Resistance was here so they had all decided to hole up in their homes hoping the strangers would leave before Walhart came and turned their lands into a battlefield. The mayor had been coerced into leaving so the Resistance could set up their headquarters. It was the biggest house in the village but that wasn't saying much since the entire town was pretty small.

Inside they found two women bending over a map discussing things in hushed tones. The sound of the door opening made them both put a hand to their weapons. "Fear not, it is just us." Virion said "It does my heart good to see you again my sweet Cherche."

The pink haired woman lowered her battleaxe and gave a pleasant smile "Milord, it is good to see you again." They exchanged hugs. It was heartfelt for a second but then Virion tried to grope her ass. With a powerful backhand Cherche sent her liege lord to the ground. Stepping over his body she approached Chrom, the khan, and Lino. "Milords," she demurred giving a curtsy "It is an utter delight to meet you at long last. You do not know how much we have yearned for your arrival."

"Aye," the other woman said stepping up beside her. She was a Chon'Sin beauty, the ones soldiers often sang about in bars. Clad in a kimono and armor she looked every inch a general. "My name is Say'ri of Chon'Sin." She gave a bow "If you have made it to us does that mean you have sunken the fleet Walhart sent to conquer your home?"

"Yes," Flavia said "It's quite the story but right now we need to focus on the task at hand. What's the plan?"

Ushering them over to the table the two women gestured to the map in front of them. Several colored markers had been placed on it symbolizing troops and supplies. To his chagrin Chrom noted the absolute wave of red markers that had been scattered about the map which contrasted sharply with the meager amount of blue markers that were located primarily on the east coast. "As you can see," Cherche sighed sweeping her hand across the map "We are not in the best of positions. They have us out numbered, they currently have the best fortifications on the entire continent in the palms of their hands, almost all of the economy of Walhart's empire is geared towards war meaning that he is pumping out soldiers and weapons at a simply ridiculous pace, and his spy network has been keeping us on our toes."

Flavia sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose "So, what advantage do we have over Walhart?"

"Nothing, save our pride as well as our righteous cause." Say'ri said crossing her arms "Forgive me if this sounds overly optimistic but I know every man in this Resistance will not rest until our homelands are free at last."

"It's alright," Flavia assured her "I'd rather be dealing with a gung ho attitude than cynicism. Don't worry about the tactics, we brought a miracle worker." Turning to Ursula she pointed to the table "I hope you got a whole host of tricks up your sleeve, we're going to need everything you got."

Ursula smirked "Please, I'll have Walhart begging you for mercy before the end of the year." Turning to the map she studied it intently. "What's this right here?" She pointed to a large red marker located towards the middle of the map.

"That would be Fort Steiger," Say'ri explained "If we are to have any hope of reclaiming our homes we must conquer it as soon as possible. All major roads lead to it; it is the heart of the continent. Alas there is one snag, it is a mighty bulwark. To date only Walhart has managed to overcome it. He had stationed a massive number of troops inside and they are led by one of his best generals."

Ursula giggled "Well then, I think it's time to add my name to his in the history books." Grabbing a handful of blue markers she looked at them "Gather around, meat sacks, watch and be amazed."