Chapter 10: Amidst Raging Seas

"Are we ready?" Daria called. She climbed her way from the dock, leaping over the railing of the boat- using Ulysses' shoulder to balance herself as she did. The huntress dropped down, looking over the small vessel as it rocked against the waves from the impact, sea spray splashing the .

"Sorry?"

Gail peeked her head around the cockpit dominating the center of the sloop, looking to her leader with wide, confused eyes. The shorter huntress nodded to the giant beside her before turning back to the archer. "We ready?"

"Oh- oh, yeah, just about," She quickly brushed past her without a second thought, following along the rigging- line to line, knot to knot studiously, carefully checking over everything, losing herself in her borderline frantic work.

Lance and Oracle dropped into the boat after their leader, watching the archer inspect the ship with razor sharp eyes. The former gave a short laugh, hand reaching up to rub the back of his head. "Man, I wish I had that kind of energy right now."

Daria's gaze turned from her teammate to him, face twisting up in distaste. "...Did you two really go out drinking last night?"

"You betcha," Oracle shot back with a smile. "C'mon, babe, we've been draggin' our asses across this dusty ass kingdom for months. This is the first real city we've been to since, what? Al-Mawi? Cut us some slack here."

Daria stared between the two smiling huntsmen for a long moment- then sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Fine. Whatever. But if you two fall over, we're not coming back for you."

"That's the spirit."

Gail briskly stepped past the trio, never even looking to them. "Watch out for the boom."

"The wh-" Lance began, only to drop low as a long, horizontal beam swept over the deck quickly. "-What the hell is that for?"

The Mo'alaun stopped, looking over to him for a moment, mouth opening- then shook her head. "...Nothing. Don't worry about it. Watch out for it, though, it'll hurt." On cue, the boom shot back the other way, again forcing the huntsmen to dodge out of its way.

"I take it back," The greatswordsman muttered. "Sailing is hazardous for your health."

"Uh huh," The archer came to a stop, looking around the boat. "...Alright! We're just about ready to hoist," She dashed towards the main mast, taking its sail towards the edge of the boom, tying it down taut. "Lance?"

"Yuh huh?"

"Hoist the mainsail, please? I'm going to go raise the jib and start the engine."

The greatswordsman frowned as she scurried towards the front of the boat, taking the smaller sail in hand. "...You could have just stopped at 'please'. This the thing?"

"Yuh huh!"

He grunted back as he took a rope in hand, beginning to pull down, the mainsail raising in response. Oracle stepped up to him, giving the working huntsman a once over, pushing her hat back on her head. "Look at you go; seaman Zaffre. Gonna remember that one for a long while."

"You shut up," He muttered, stopping as the sail went taut above them. He looked over the rope in hand, a metal clip staring back at him. "Okay, archer, what the hell do I do with this?"

The boat purred as its engine came to life, rocking the waters around them. Gail appeared out of the cockpit, quickly reaching the swordsman's side. "I've got it. Shoo."

She clipped the hook down, giving the sail's rope a testing tug, nodding to herself. The duo of sails flapped noisily against the wind rushing into the port, and Gail dashed to the opposite side, leaving her teammates standing quietly.

"It's not too late to just cross the desert." Daria muttered, watching as the archer continued to zip to and fro; pulling lines, clipping hooks, double and triple checking her work before moving on to something else demanding her attention.

Oracle pushed away from the railing, beginning to idly walk about the deck, looking around at Gail's work. "If Khepri found us out there again, he'd probably just kill us himself."

"Nah, we could take him." Lance shot back, pushing past Ulysses and Shinai idly, following after the gunslinger.

Daria shook her head, looking back to the two dark-haired huntsmen standing at the edge of the deck. "...You guys okay?" Ulysses grunted lowly; his dark, guarded gaze never leaving the distant horizon. Shinai looked from his former teammate back to his current leader, giving her a small, though thin smile. She sighed, giving them a nod, before following after the other members of the team.

"Raising anchor!" Gail called. A moment later, the sloop shuddered, and began forwards, pulling away from the steel and wood docks; then, the engine purred, the sails stopped flapping, puffing out slightly, and the boat started picking up speed. She turned the prow parallel to the coast, letting them pull a few dozen meters into the deep.

She stepped out of the cockpit, looking over the rigging and sails, a content, satisfied smile claiming her face. She looked back to her teammates; and their steadfast, impressed expressions. Her smile turned bashful, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. She cleared her throat, rubbing the back of her neck. "Do... uh, any of you know how to steer?"

There was a moment of silence, before Lance shrugged. "Can't be too hard."

"Awesome- could you- please- keep a hand on the wheel? I need to be out here, uh... the rigging takes a lot of attention- just... keep us north. And... not crashing into the coast, or sailing out into open water or- you know what I mean, right?" The swordsman shook his head, starting towards the cock pit. "Oh, and the engine- you'll have the engine. I'll... I suppose I'll let you know when to speed up or slow-"

"Yeah, yeah; I get it, I get it," Lance said, waving a hand as he disappeared around the corner. "You're the captain, Cerulean."

Her smile brightened again, warm eyes glinting brightly. The moment went quickly, as she was summarily jostled back to reality as Oracle threw an arm over her shoulder, hugging her tightly. "You look like a little kid who just got told you were getting a dragon for your birthday."

"Well..." Gail said, offering a small side hug back. "It'd be your birthday, too."

"...Oh, yeah, it would be, wouldn't it? Speakin' of, what're we doin' this year?"

"...Saving Vacuo?" The archer shot back to attention, pulling free from the embrace. "Hold that thought." She turned and dashed across the ship, bringing her attention back to the ship's rigging, returning to her prior, dutiful trance.

Oracle watched her go, arms crossing over her chest, a wry smile climbing across her face. Daria stepped up to the gunslinger, sharing the expression. The redheaded warrior gave a small, light scoff. "...I feel like a proud mama."

"Heh," Her leader said quietly, watching the archer fervently dash around the sloop, stopping to yell something at Lance, get yelled back at, and then continue. "...Yeah. Me too. Come on, let's go get settled in. We've got a long day ahead of us."

"Aye, aye, that I can do; my head is killin' me."

Ding-dong.

Nash jumped in his seat on the couch, wheeling around in surprise.

The sound of a faucet running went quiet from the kitchen. "Was that the doorbell?" Helen called, the commotion of cooking coming to a still.

The young Aspis blinked, rising from his chair, beginning towards the door. "Yeah, I'll-" He hesitated, a shot of cold running through him. He swallowed hard, tightening fingers into a fist. "...I got it."

"...Oh," His mother called, tone hesitant. "...Alright."

Nash took a breath as he reached the door, hand wrapping around the doorknob- and slowly, he pulled it open. The chill night air flowed into the living room, washing over the boy; but there was no one stood on the step. He looked around, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, before his gaze fell- to a large cardboard box sitting on the welcome mat, its side emblazoned with a litany of packaging information.

He- with a considerable amount of effort- worked it up to sit between his arm and his hip, awkwardly pulling it back inside. He set the package down and looked over it. Only a moment passed before a buzz rumbled through his pocket, jolting him in shock. He fished his Scroll out, looking over its illuminated screen.

A message from Kyana played across its surface; 'Hope you like it! Daddy says hi'.

His mother leaned around the threshold to the kitchen, eyebrow raised. "Who was it?"

Nash didn't answer for a second, frowning. "Uh... nothin'. Just a... somethin' from Ky."

"Oh, alright. Dinner will be ready in a few." Helen said, disappearing around the corner again.

Again, the younger Aspis said nothing, gaze falling back to the box. He leaned down and began working the tape away, pulling the package open-;

Inside sat two long, rolled up lengths of paper, a much smaller, unrolled letter; and a mass of styrofoam.

And, as he pried it apart, inside of the styrofoam was a matte grey limb, formed from plastic; multi-jointed and lined with plates. Nash stared into the box in confusion for a long few moments, blue gaze not processing what he was seeing. Slowly, he reached down with a trembling hand, and lifted the letter.

Emblazoned on it in neat, black type-

'To one Nash Aspis,

Sorry it's a little big; it was either that or make it the size of your hand the last time I saw you. This is probably the better solution.

Also sorry it's only a mock-up; the trade embargo makes it difficult to ship most anything in and out of the kingdom. But, if I know you, you'll do it better than I could anyways.

Ky-Ky says you still want to fight. You're braver than I. And tougher too. It would be an honor to help you get back to it.

Don't let anyone know I sent this to you. I'd be in terrible trouble. Not that that has stopped us before, though.

Good luck, Nash.

Remember me when you save the world. I want a mention in your post-world saving speech.

-Dr. Medes Atlea.'

Tears began to fall into the page, and Nash blinked with the realization. He reached up and wiped the wetness away from his cheeks with his sleeve, taking a deep, deep breath. Placing the letter, back, he unfurled one of the scrolls- printed across it was a sketch of the prosthetic, blown up and revealing each, minute facet of its inner mechanisms. Quick, scratchy notes lined the margins of the schematics, idly- and rantingly- going into even more fine detail of the limb.

He dropped it back into the box, gaze finding its way to the limb. Again, he froze, staring down at it; eyes tracing across its pieces, following its lines and creases. His head slowly cocked to the side.

"I could do better," He muttered dryly, voice cracking slightly. His breath hitched, and he pulled the box up again, holding it tight to his side. "...I'm gonna go for a walk." He shouted out, rising above the din of the kitchen.

"...Okay," Helen called back. "But be back soon, dinner's almost ready."

Nash said nothing, already heading out the door, closing it quietly behind him. He crossed along the path heading towards the street- and then quickly turned, cutting across the yard briskly, awkwardly half-jogging, trying to keep the box steady.

He rounded the house towards the back, gaze falling onto the small barn sequestered between his home and the forest behind. His gait slowed as he neared it, the steadfast determination in his face fading, replacing instead with hesitation. He stopped, looking from it, back to his brightly lit home, biting his lip.

He took another steadying breath, before continuing his march forwards, clearing the distance to the barn. He set the box down, looking to the glass number pad beside the large door, flipping its covering open. Nash reached towards it- and froze, looking to the remnants of his hand, three fingers outstretched. His teeth grit together, and he wiped the thick layer of dust from the screen. At his touch, it lit up- dim for a moment, then bright.

His hand floated over the numpad, skillfully typing in a code. An engine began to roar to life, and the door started raising, squeaking out noisily, shuddering slightly as it did. He winced at the loud racket, beginning to push the box forwards into the dark recesses of the barn. Dust idly swirled around him, disuse covering every surface in the building with a thick layer of it.

The boy stepped towards the center of the building- bashing his hip against a table as he did- and reached up with a wince. His hand wrapped around a controller suspended from the ceiling, pulling it down towards him. He pushed in its single, large button-

And the barn lit up brightly, industrial lights filling the building with florescent, white light, shining out to the dark night beyond.

Nash stopped, looking around the workshop with rapidly moistening eyes; tables littered with long forgotten tools and projects- some small and done, others left unfinished. The walls were lined floor to ceiling with power tools, weapons, mechanical limbs, and odd contraptions, lacking any rhyme or reason.

And against the far wall, centered with pride, was a duo of large robotic constructs, towering twice as tall as the boy; both were left suspended in positions as if they were flexing muscles. The first was the smaller, though bulkier of the two, its metallic exterior Frankensteined together and partially eaten away with rust. The second was taller and leaner, its frame only slightly wider than Nash's own, its surface painted in dull, flaking reds and golds.

A bright smile, filled with warm nostalgia, crossed the mechanic's face as he finished taking in his long undisturbed workshop- that smile quickly faded as his gaze fell onto the current centerpiece of the building.

An object suspended off the floor by chains, covered in an old, yellowing blanket. His expression dropped as he stared at it, a deep, dark pit forming in his stomach, his mind melting from that barn to that far off place, surrounded by fire and screams-

A blade pushing through a visor.

A golden sword piercing a leg.

Molten hot gold ripping through the midsection, through the arm.

A flash of metal as the blade cleaved the head in two, too easily, too easily, too close, shouldn't have-

Nash wrenched his eyes tightly shut, looking away from the suspended object. He slowly forced his rapid, panicked breathing into more controlled, deep breaths, fighting away the terror swelling within him.

Painfully lethargically, the sudden rush of adrenaline and panic began to ebb steadied, and he finally opened his eyes. He looked down to the table beside him; and his fingers digging into its surface, beginning to splinter the wood. He raised the offending limb up with furrowed brows- watching as familiar, and long unused, red aura flashed over it.

Clenching his hand into a fist, gave the workshop one last look over- pointedly avoiding the tarp- then looked back to the box beside him. He hefted it up onto the table, walking it across until he'd reached the end and an old, though massive, computer monitor, covered in dust. He wiped across the screen and activated it. It leisurely began to whir to life, a black screen with a progress bar inching its way to completion meeting him.

He reached into the box and began fishing its contents out- placing the letter beneath the monitor, the prosthetic on one side, and the scrolls on the other, letting them roll out.

He looked back and forth between the duo of schematics and the plastic limb itself, frowning.

"I can do this," He whispered, shoring up his resolve. "...I can do this..." He pulled the schematics closer as his computer finally opened to its desktop- and he was greeted with the image of a young, blonde boy holding a mechanical contraption aloft with pride, and a blonde man in a white overcoat, laughing brightly with pride of his own. He stared at the picture for a moment, lingering on the laughing man as his eyes softened. He nodded to himself, jaw going tight; his expression shifting into one of determination. "...Back to the fight..."

The door creaked open; the warm, bright light of the desert sun shining in slowly to illuminate more and more of the room within. A golden blade entered first into the darkened building, its molten edge lighting the darkness where it swayed.

After a moment, Dragon's Fang was followed by Vegas, his thick cloak falling around himself, expression twisted in wariness. The killer's eyes, golden and flat, scanned around the shadowed interior, flitting across every surface, peering into every corner, observing every object. Satisfied, he slunk inside, closing the door quietly behind him, leaving only his blade and eyes glowing amongst the black.

Click; the light turned on, bathing the small apartment in dim, flickering light. Vegas let out a sigh as the tension left him, scowl replacing the coldness that had dominated his features. He pulled his blade from his arm, dropping it onto the dirty counter, its surface laden with empty bottles and embedded knives.

He let his cloak fall to the ground, stepping over it to make his way to the fridge. The killer pulled out a bottle, tearing its cap off before putting it to his lips. He drank greedily from it, devouring the liquid within with a growl of satisfaction. Vegas stepped away, marching across the apartment to the doorway on the opposite wall. He opened it and stepped through, looking around the dingy bedroom. Again satisfied with its vacancy, he made his way back to the building's main room, falling to sit in the rickety chair that sat in its center. He let out a content sigh, his head falling back.

He'd only sat for a moment before every hair on his body stood on end.

His eyes snapped open, muscles coiling, instincts screaming at him. He shot to his feet, sending the chair sprawling, dashing towards where Dragon's Fang was waiting. He nearly made it before-

Clickclickclickclick.

The chattering of sharp teeth, bone against bone. The air in the apartment chilled, and Vegas froze in place, one hand resting on his sword. Golden eyes turned to the shadows yawning from the other side of the room.

Slowly, the creature emerged, chattering noisily; an arrowhead-like appendage pushed through the darkness first, attached to a thin red tentacle. More of the limbs joined the first- two, three, five- before the creature itself appeared. Small, the size of a basketball; its bulbous form black, white plates across its body matching white teeth chattering against each other from around the spindly tentacles. Inside its globular body, though, was a glowing orange light, pulsating lightly.

The grimm came to a halt halfway to the killer, floating in place idly. Vegas swallowed hard, drawing his hand from his blade. He slowly walked towards it, golden gaze filled with trepidation, his breathing turning shallow. He opened his mouth to speak-

"Oh, dear Vegas," The grimm said, voice wavering like speaking through water. "You have no reason to fear me..."

The killer's teeth grit together tightly, his form rising out of its defensive position. "...Your Grace." He muttered, head bowed lowly.

Salem hummed through the Seer, its form shifting closer towards him. "You've been away for quite some time, dear Vegas... how goes your hunt?"

The killer took a moment, mustering his resolve, chin rising back into the air. "... I... I haven't found her. Yet... Your Grace."

"Mm... disappointing. Tell me, Vegas; what exactly is keeping you? I was certain that you were one of the most skilled hunters I have. I trust that you are using all of your skills I this endeavor."

"Of course," He hissed, voice taut with urgency. "It's- Vacuo is a huge kingdom. My... informants are working, but... trying to hunt someone here is like-"

"Finding a needle in a haystack? Do you know the best way to do that, Vegas?"

"...I-"

"Burn the haystack," The words hung over the quiet apartment for a moment, before Salem continued. "...There are some here who doubt your competency. Some who doubt your health... some who doubt your loyalty. I do hope you prove them wrong, Vegas... Find the Maiden. You're running out of time, dear Vegas. We near the hour of our triumph in Mistral; I do trust that you'll be fully prepared for our arrival soon."

Vegas sucked in a breath. "O- of course, Your Grace. I'll find her."

"Good. Do not let us down, Vegas. We are so close to achieving our goals... we cannot falter now. I eagerly await your next update."

"Cinder-" The killer spat quickly, stepping towards the orb. "How is she?" He stared at the Seer expectantly- but the orange glow inside the grimm had already dimmed. Wordlessly, chattering its fangs against each other, it began to float back into the darkness. The sound of a window raising echoed out through the quiet building; the rush of wind blowing in; the room warmed again, and the Seer was gone.

He stared after it for a long moment-

And let out a frustrated scream, picking the chair beside him off of the ground, and hurtling it at the wall; sending it shattering into a thousand pieces.

Ulysses's gaze stared out across the horizon as he rocked against the waves, the Lucidean Ocean stretching as far as the eye could see; deep, warm blue in color; the sun beginning to set, bathing the sky in gorgeous oranges and purples. The warm, tropical breeze washed over him, the sound of the sails loosely flapping behind him; the others, discussing quietly; Gail busily keeping track of a thousand things, dashing around the sloop with purpose.

He took a deep breath in, and the warm air in his nose turned bitingly frigid. When he opened his eyes, the warm light of Vacuo turned to a winter pale; the warm breeze to a stinging winter gust; the warm blues of the Lucidean to the pale, dark Mantlean Sea.

Snow began to fall, and his heart dropped, and he was twelve again.

"So here you are."

The berserker screwed his eyes shut at the familiar voice, goading him, prodding him, his hands balling into tight fists.

"...Too much of a coward to even be there when it happened."

His face twisted into a snarl; fingernails began to dig into his palms.

"You ran. Like you always do. She told me she was glad. Didn't want to see you."

Smoke began to curl off of his form, his chest beginning to alight with fire, his mind going dark, thoughts getting lost in a sea of black and red and rage, his breathing increasing, blood pulsing, heart pounding, teeth baring; he was twelve, twelve, why-

A hand on his shoulder.

"...Ulysses?"

The cold disappeared, the voice whisked away on a tropical breeze, deep and condescending laughter fading into nothing. His eyes opened back to the Lucidean.

He turned- to Gail, her warm, worried eyes meeting his own- two pools of black, slowly draining back to normal. "Is... everything alright?" She asked, voice soft and ever melodic.

He wiped a bloody palm onto his coat, giving her a non-committal grunt back, gaze turning towards the horizon again. The archer watched him for a moment- and then leaned forwards against the railing, planting her feet solidly onto the planks below. The movement drew his attention back towards her, one eyebrow cocking up in irritation and confusion.

She looked down into the deep blue seas beneath them, teeth gritting together hard. She took a steadying breath. "...It's... terrifying," She whispered. "Do you... know what all is down there?" She looked up to him, the giant giving her a slow head shake back. "...Neither do I. I know enough, though... and it makes my heart pound- and now I have to look away, because I think I'm having a panic attack,"

Gail brought her gaze back up, following Ulysses's prior gaze towards the horizon. "...But that's beautiful... I love the sea, you know? I... I spent so many years on it. But now, it... it terrifies me," She looked up to him with a small, supportive smile. "...Being out here feels like... meeting an old loved one and facing my worst fears at the same time... it does make me feel really... really brave though," She placed a hand on his forearm, giving it a small squeeze. "...I can only imagine what it's like doing that every day. It makes you look very brave, though- and now I need to go make sure we still have the wind, hold that thought."

The archer disappeared again, after another set of rigging to adjust, sails to turn, a brief shout to Lance echoing out over the otherwise quiet waves. Ulysses watched her go, swallowing hard. He turned back out to the horizon- and focused onto a long, dark abyss out amidst the deep blue, like a crevice down into the depths of the sea.

And then the abyss began to move towards them.

Quickly.

He screwed his eyes shut with a snarl, shaking his head furiously, trying to force the vision to disappear. He opened his eyes, and the darkness was gone. He took a deep, steadying breath-

Whoosh.

The boat shook, rocking and waving. All six of the warriors shot to attention, looking to one another with matching frowns. Lance leaned out of the cockpit, looking to the berserker. "...That was you, right?"

Whoosh.

The ship rose several feet off of the water, dropping back with a deafening smack, and an blast of sea spray soaking the sloop.

Gail froze, eyes wide in horror.

The other huntsmen drew their weapons, looking around. "What the hell is i..." Oracle began- and trailed off as a dark shape appeared off of their starboard bow.

The surf broke- and two, massive bone white antlers pocked up from the sea. Those antlers rose higher and higher, giving way to a massive reptilian skull with hateful yellow and red eyes. That rose- and rose, and rose, and rose, the huntsmen's gazes locked onto it as it continued higher and higher and higher into the sky, towering over the sloop by a dozen, two dozen, three dozen, four dozen meters.

It stared down at them, red fins falling down its back shaking, thin, clawed limbs reaching out to the huntsmen- and the throat of its serpentine, black form began to glow golden, its herculean mouth yawning open slightly; the same glow pulsating out through its mouth.

Lance's eyes widened as he stared up at the Sea Feilong, the King of the Seas, the gargantuan grimm taking a breath in.

His face fell. "Oh, you have got to be fu-"

The grimm let out a roar- and from its mouth, a beam of lightning, larger than the boat was wide, fired out like a laser, arcing towards them with ridiculous speed. Gail cranked the wheel hard to the side, the sloop awkwardly turning on a dime- barely dodging the blast, letting it slam into the water with the force of a mac truck, massive waves raising, and nearly flipping the boat.

The Feilong reared itself up, drawing more of its body out of the ocean- and dove towards them.