AGAREST LEGACIES

By Greg Wong

Act I

Chapter 1: Aegisthus

Rex yawned, sitting up in bed.

Or, well, tried to. It was probably rude to do that with a sleeping woman splayed out on top of you. Unfortunately, the yawn seemed to do the trick, and Ellis mumbled something into his chest before raising her head to look at him sleepily.

"Is it time?" his wife asked, not quite stifling a yawn of her own.

He turned his head towards the window. The curtains were muting the sunlight streaming into the room, but even then, it didn't look bright enough yet.

"I don't think so. Still a bit early. You can go back to sleep if you want."

"That doesn't sound bad, actually," the high elf said as she laid her head on the adjacent pillow. She snuggled up closer to him.

Um...

Ellis' eyes popped open as she discovered it. Without a word she lifted the sheets, peered down, then returned to look at him. She cocked an eyebrow as she said, "You said it was early."

He shrugged weakly. "Well, you know, it's sometimes like that in the morning," he said stiffly, clearing his throat. "It, uh, can't be helped."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Ellis said to him, a sly smile on her face. She wiggled closer, covering his upper body with hers.

Any sleepiness he might have had was now irrevocably, impossibly, irredeemably gone. Having Ellis wriggling on top of him had a tendency to do that. And not just Ellis. Naked Ellis. Making love and then falling fast asleep the previous night without bothering to retrieve one's nightclothes had a tendency to do that, too.

Ellis' lips covered his in a slow, passionate kiss. He wrapped his arms around his wife, drawing her closer.

His wife broke away a little, giggling. One hand reached up to cup his cheek while the other traced itself across his chest, moving lower, over his stomach.

Oh, this wouldn't do. With a smile he moved one of his arms, fingers gliding down Ellis' spine, moving lower, towards her rump. He let his hand rest there for a moment as Ellis practically quivered in anticipation. And that's when—

Someone knocked on the door.

Oh, gods above...

His hand—and Ellis' too, sadly—froze as he and his wife looked towards the door. Maybe if they didn't say anything, the person on the other side would think they were still asleep and would leave.

"Sir Davien and the escort are here!" piped a voice from behind the door. "And the wagons, too! And someone from the ship! And lady who I think wants to sell some sheep. Oh! Sir Davien said that because he's so early that he doesn't mind waiting until you're properly ready. What should I tell them?"

Before answering, he carefully lifted the sheets and looked down. He sighed. The mood had been irrevocably, impossibly, irredeemably killed.

Ellis giggled again she she rolled off, allowing him to sit up in the bed.

"Tell Sir Davien that I'll be out shortly. Please have Bertram serve them some refreshments if they want anything."

"Okay!" There was the sound of receding footsteps as their little interrupter dashed off.

He sighed again.

"Oh, don't worry, Rex," his wife said to him. "We'll make some time later. You'll think of something."

"I suppose," he replied, grinning. "But why the pressure on me? You can think of something clever yourself, you know."

Ellis sat up, her back to him, silent.

"I remember when I proposed to you I begged you to go easy on me," he said with an exaggerated sigh.

"I also remember telling you 'not a chance,' " his wife said, looking over her shoulder and winking mischievously.

Then and there, he was monumentally tempted to push Ellis back down onto the bed, and damn Davien and the other waiting knights.

He was actually shifting his weight when pattering footsteps returned to outside their door.

"Oh! Sorry! Um! I almost forgot! Good morning, Mother! Good morning, Father!"

He and Ellis stared at each other for a few heartbeats, blinking. Then they burst out laughing.

"Good morning, Matthias!" he and Ellis said in unison.

Fifteen minutes later, Ellis, groomed and dressed in sensible traveling clothes, along with Rex, went outside to meet Davien.

"Good morning, Count Roaring Cove, Countess Roaring Cove," the knight said as he drew up to them, giving them a small bow.

She chuckled. "Sir Davien, how many more times do I have to insist on not using our titles?"

Davien replied with a laugh of his own. "Only when it ceases to be amusing, Milady."

Beside her, Rex smiled and extended a hand. "It's good to see you, Davien. How goes it, my friend?"

"As well as could be, Milord," the knight replied, shaking Rex's hand. Normally shaking a hand with a mere knight was beneath a count, but Rex never seemed to care about things like status. It was just one of the many reasons why she loved him. "Centan is still beautiful, the sun still shines, and my sister gave birth a week ago to a healthy baby boy."

Oh, Kirsten had given birth already? "That's magnificent! Tell her congratulations from us," she said.

Davien nodded in thanks. "I will gladly do so, Milady. It would please her to hear it."

They made small talk for a few minutes, catching up.

Davien was a few years younger than Rex was, but taller and broader, especially in armor. The knight had been a boy during the war against the darkness nine years ago, and had, just like the whole world, witnessed the final battle with Chaos. Davien had deeply admired Rex ever since, and that admiration had grown up to a good friendship between the two. And while he was a little over ten years older than Matthias, the young knight provided a much needed big brother to their son.

She excused herself as Rex and Davien began to talk business, namely the move and the overseas escort. She had better find Matthias to make sure he was ready to go in a couple of hours.

Chaos had been right, to an extent. There had been no shortage of people who had cursed the Raglan name because of the upheaval. Countless people had died and livelihoods had been thrown into chaos when the land had been torn asunder. The deaths and ruined lives had rested heavily on Rex and her for several years. The birth of Matthias had been a welcomed bright spot, and raising the energetic young boy had been a much needed distraction, but sometimes at night, when they were alone, they couldn't help but think about it.

Two years after Matthias was born—three years since the fall of Chaos—the ruler of Centan had invited them to the capital. She had been reluctant to go, what with infant son and all, and Rex had volunteered to go by himself. She couldn't even consider letting her husband brave the people alone, though, so she accompanied him.

At Centam, in a quiet but public ceremony, the king had awarded the title of count to Rex and countess to her. But that hadn't been the eye-opener. It was the crowd, thousands strong, who cheered and chanted the Raglan name.

But it wasn't until the carriage ride to their new home, the small County of Roaring Cove, that it truly hit them. The road they had traveled had been lined with wheat fields, with fieldworkers frantically working to complete the harvest before the frost set in. The upheaval had devastated many farmlands, and while there was no famine, food was still very expensive.

But even as they worked, the fieldhands rose from their task to wave at the carriage cheerily before returning to their work, despite the daunting winter.

When they had arrived at their new estate—a small, simple thing, which fit them perfectly—Rex had wept.

"This is what we fought for, Ellis," he had said to her. "We fought for that hope, for a free land. This is what Leo, Ladius, Thoma, Duran, and thousands of others died for."

Another seven years passed, and it was one hundred and one years to the day when Leonhardt had become the first Spirit Vessel to save her life. And now they would be soon leaving the county and the beautiful, cacophonous cove that was its namesake. It was not large loss, if you looked at it financially. Roaring Cove was a county in name only, and was in reality just a few hectares of land with a nice house by the shores of northern Aegisthus. Their titles, themselves, were also honorary. But it was home, and for Matthias, the place where he had been raised. It would be hard to say goodbye.

But they were going to. Two years ago Rex had received a letter from Zerva, who had moved back to Lucrellia not long after Chaos had fallen. Zerva still had visited from time to time, to visit his great-great-great-grandnephew—and great-great-grandnephew, naturally—but recent correspondence from Zerva revealed that he was now the chief of Bright Woods Village, near the Frontier area in Lucrellia. He was too busy to come visit, as was Vira-Lorr, who had often accompanied the syrium on his visits and had apparently been inducted into the community over there. But that wasn't much of a surprise.

The real shock had been the Zerva's revelation that a coalition of several kingdoms—from all five continents, at that—had organized, financed, and crewed a project to erect a series of monuments in honor of the fallen Raglans. The four monuments would be placed in Lucrellia, Leonhardt's homeland, near the location where he had accepted his contract to become a Spirit Vessel. Architects, smiths, stonemasons, and engravers from all over the world had been hired for the project, including her old friends Ganz and Plum. The way Zerva told it, the two of them had refused payment for the project, but had finally relented and promised the rewards to their hometowns. It would be nice to see them again.

In the end, they were invited to move to Lucrellia for the dedication of the monuments, which was now only about six months away. She had wondered if Rex would be reluctant to leave their comfortable life in Aegisthus, but her husband had expressed a desire to see Leo's—and her—homeland. Several meetings and letters and months later, here they were, ready to leave. A home was waiting for them in Bright Woods.

Now only if she could find their son...

She circled the estate, looking for Matthias. Not in the yard area, or the stables. He couldn't have gotten into the field, could he? She had told him not to run off today. Hands on her hips, she started walking along the western wall of the house.

"Matthias!" she called. "Matty!"

Nothing

Gah.

None of the Raglans—save Thoma, when he was doing his double act with Winfield—were ever this much trouble! Granted, she had had the party to help her with raising Thoma, and Ladius, and Duran, and Rex, but goodness. Matthias was honestly something else entirely.

Of course, she wouldn't trade him for the world.

"Lady Ellis?" she heard a voice call from behind her. She recognized Bertram's voice, and turned. The servant walked up to her swiftly. "Are you looking for Master Matthias?"

"I am," she said, fighting the desire to sigh. "Do you know where he's gotten off to?"

"Well, no I haven't, Milady." Bertram bent closer to whisper into her ear conspiratorially. "However, I do believe I heard some odd noises in the bushes behind the barn. And there might have been a boy who made an old man swear not to tell his mother where he is." The servant straightened up. "Perhaps I could take a closer look again?"

She laughed at that. Oh, Matthias.

"No, no, that won't be necessary, Bertram. I suppose I'll find him sooner or later. However, if you could, please help supervise the movers inside the house. Make sure they don't take anything that belongs to you, for example."

The servant smiled warmly. "Of course, Lady Ellis. I'll get right on that. Have a good day then." Her servant gave a small bow and started to make his way towards the house.

Ellis watched the older man go, smiling. Bertram was nearing sixty, and while in fine health for his age, she had noticed he was starting to move a little more stiffly than she remembered. She and Rex liked Bertram a lot, and Matthias treated the old servant as favorite uncle, despite Bertram's status as a servitor. After discussing it, they had consulted a judge concerning the transfer of the land, and had eventually been able to sign over the deed to the older man. Not the noble title of course, since it was hereditary. However, according to the contract, one month after their departure, this area of land would not longer be the County of Roaring Cove, but simply the estate of Bertram. The old man had been good to them over the years. He deserved a nice, quiet place to retire to.

Speaking of nice, it would be nice if she could find her little rascal of a son. She approached the barn as quietly as she could. Decades of traipsing through forests, deserts, wetlands, and caves helped her with that. Goodness. To think that all might have been a waste.

She heard definite rustling coming from behind the barn. With a quick step she rounded the corner and...

And was treated to the sight of an nine-year-old—almost ten—boy scrabbling underneath a bush. Her son was so engrossed in... whatever he was doing that the boy hadn't noticed her arrival. She darted her hand in—again, reflexes gained from defending yourself against orcs and goblins that wanted to eat you were helpful—and closed her thumb and index finger on her son's ear. Not hard, mind you; for all his energetic adventurousness and disregard for time, Matty was a good-natured and—generally—obedient boy. Still.

There was a yelp from within the bush.

"Matthias Raglan," she said, slowly, deliberately, and firmly. This was, incidentally, the voice she had used most often with a younger Thoma back in the day. "When I release your ear, you are crawling out of that bush, understood?"

"Yes, Mother," she heard Matty squeak.

She let go, and her son scrambled out from under the bush.

And there, for all the world to see, stained in sap, covered in dirt, and with at least a half-dozen six-legged things crawling over him, was Matthias Raglan.

Matty was large for his age and the physique strongly reminded her of the tall, broad-shouldered Ladius. In terms of features, however, the boy strongly favored her husband, except for hints of herself in his eyes and, of all things, ears. Matthias looked to have have ears a little longer and pointer than the human norm. It would be hard to tell, since her son was so young, just how large they would grow. Ladius had been half syrium, and Duran had been a mixture of over half syrium, high elf, and dark elf, but both of them had had human ears.

Oh, what was she thinking about? She was supposed to be scolding the boy.

Almost without thinking, she flicked her hand up and tousled the boy's hair, which was a rather striking mixture of Rex's pale brown highlighted with her pink. A couple of rubs, and the hair—cut short to vainly prevent this—disgorged the foliage and dirt that had taken up residence there. Something green with wings buzzed away angrily.

"Matty, didn't I tell you to be ready and presentable by now?" she asked, amused.

Her son blinked. "Um. Yes? I was going to be dressed and prepared, honest, but then I forgot about that I'd been planning with the flicker beetles."

She frowned. "Flicker beetles?"

"Yes. You know how I capture them in jars sometimes and use them as lights inside the house at night when I don't have a candle and we really shouldn't use candles anyway?" Matty said in one breath. "Well I thought that would go double when we're on a ship, so I was collecting some more bottles of flicker beetles for the trip.

She sighed. Oh, well, a bottle of luminescent beetles couldn't hurt anyone, could they? She gestured to the corked bottle of insects at her son's feet.

"Oh, all right then. Bring the bottle aboard the ship. But next time, remember when we have to stick to a schedule, all right? Being on time is important. Beetles aren't."

"Okay. I'm sorry, Mother." Matthias looked down at the ground.

A more cynical parent would assume that the remorse was manufactured, but she knew her son. Behind that energy and curiosity—and, yes, a regretful lack of respects for schedules—was a genuinely good child. She was proud of the son she and Rex were raising, even if the boy drove her batty on occasion.

She wouldn't trade it for the world.

She felt a sudden surge of love for the boy, bending down and giving him a kiss on his forehead. Matty looked slightly embarrassed at receiving a peck from his mother. After all, what if Bertram or, gods forbid, Sir Davien were somehow watching.

She chuckled and tousled Matthias' hair again. "Okay, off you go to get cleaned up," she said.

Her son picked up the bottle of beetles, and started to trot off to the house.

Wait a moment.

"Matty!" she called.

Her son turned. "Yes, Mother?"

"You do know we'll be at sea for a total of three or four months. Do you have food for your little friends?"

Matthias' face brightened. "Oh, yeah, I thought ahead about that! I have some food packed away for them!"

"Oh, good, then." Wait. Something was still making her motherly senses tingle. "How much?"

"Um... something like eight or nine pounds? Around that."

Wait, what? Nine pounds of insect feed? "Matthias, they can't possibly eat that much!" she exclaimed, looking at the jar with no more than a dozen of the little beetles.

"Well, not just this bottle, of course," her son said, as if that explained everything.

She was starting to develop a sinking feeling, one that was only slightly less intense than the ones she had felt when Winfield would try to sneak an eyeful at the baths.

"Matthias, how many bottles of flicker beetles do you have?"

"Including this one? Twenty-seven."

Her first, blaring instinct was to yell no, no, no, twenty-seven bottles of bugs were not coming aboard the ship. Then her second instinct, the one where she didn't feel she had the heart to shatter her son's dreams of a room full of buggy companions, superseded the first.

She scratched at her temple. "O-okay. Um, just get cleaned and dressed for the journey. It's about forty minutes by carriage to the dock, so make sure you're comfortable and clean. I'll talk to your father about the beetles."

"Okay!"

Her son charged off towards the house to hopefully get clean, and she had the dubious task of figuring out what to do with twenty-seven jars of insects. Well. She supposed she could make Rex make all the decisions regarding that. After all, she never promised to go easy on him.

She grinned to herself.

Wouldn't trade this for the world.

In the end, she and Rex decided Matty was allowed to keep fifteen jars. But only five pounds of bug food, gods above.

"Well, I suppose this is goodbye, Master Matthias," Matthias heard Bertram say to him.

"I guess so," he said, looking down at the ground and kicking a pebble.

"Normally you look at someone in the eye when you prepare to take your leave," Bertram said in that real nice, patient voice he always used.

He looked up at Bertram... only for the servant to get all blurry and his eyes to get all tingly and watery and stuff. He was crying. That was bad. Very Bad. Sir Davien had always said tears should only be shed for a dead ruler or comrade. Bertram was kind of a comrade. But he wasn't dead. Just going away.

He leaned forward and gave Bertram a tight hug.

"There, there, Master Matthias. You'll know where to find me. Visit me when you can, yes?"

"Yeah," he said, sniffling. Sniffling as also a Bad Thing. Had to stop. Stop!

"I left an extra bottle of flicker beetles by your bedroom door," he said, fighting back the sniffles. "In case it's dark in there."

He felt Bertram pat his head.

"Thank you, young Master. I'll make sure to use them well."

"And sorry about that thing with the vase and the strawberries and the caterpillars," he added.

He heard the old man bawl out with laughter. "Hah! Think nothing of it. And if it makes a difference, I laughed myself sick once I managed to clean it up."

"Okay," he sniffled. "Bye, Bertram."

"Farewell, Master Matthias."

He let go of Bertram, and he was finally able to rub his nose. Had to make sure Mother didn't see him. She didn't like it when he wiped his nose with his sleeve. He retreated to the waiting carriage, hopping in even though a footman offered to help him up. He watched Mother and Father also say their goodbyes and give Bertram a hug. He saw that both Mother and Father had a little moisture in their eyes. Hmm. Since Father probably the coolest thing to ever walk Agarest, maybe crying was only Bad, not Very Bad.

Mother came inside next, and just like he had, she hopped up without help from the footman. Mother always did things like that, and he was pretty sure she didn't notice it. Like Bertram might accidentally nudge something over, and Mother would catch it before it fell. Or when taking a walk she would skip over a pothole or large rock without seeming to notice it. He'd also seen Mother doing magic sometimes, too, and not just the healing water or light magic when he scraped himself. Sometimes when she didn't know he was watching her she would do this complex spell that looked like a huge lightning bolt. Or a blinding flash. Or swords made of light. Hmm. Maybe Mother was cool in her own way, too.

Father came in last, and the footman shut the door behind him. The carriage started moving.

He leaned towards the window and gave Bertram one last wave. The servant waved back.

And then they turned a bend, and the house was gone.

He continued looking out the window and saw Sir Davien pull up alongside the carriage. The knight gave him a nod and a little salute. Smiling a little, he returned the gesture. He saw Sir Davien give another nod and trot his horse past the carriage.

"He's cool," he said to himself quietly.

"He is," he heard Father say. Ah! He'd been too loud!

"I'll agree with the sentiment," Mother added. Then, "Although, I still can't figure out where that term came from, you know. Generally when something's cold, that's not a positive statement. Well, unless you're describing ice cream." Pause. "But the flipside to saying that about ice cream is that it's just like saying water is wet or fire is hot. A bit redundant."

He shrugged and made a "I don't know!" noise. "The other kids in Centan started to use it, at least that's what Sir Davien said."

His father leaned towards. "Wait, you mean to say Sir Davien uses that slang, too?"

"Mm-hmm. I heard it from him first. He just doesn't do it when he's being formal or doing knight stuff."

"Huh," he heard Father say. "You know, I'm barely six years older than Sir Davien, and I never caught on to the 'cools' and 'awesomes' and whatever. Am I just out of touch?"

"Well, sweetheart," Mother said to Father, "it's worse for me. For over a hundred years I traveled five different continents, meeting all kinds of different people and hearing all manners of speech. You'd think that I would be able to at least understand this new Aegisthusian slang, even if I didn't adopt it. But it confuses me like nothing else."

"Eh, out of touch," he said faintly.

All talk stopped. Slowly, he turned away from the window to look at Mother and Father who were staring at him. He'd be worried that he might be in trouble, except he could see twitching at the corners of their lips that said they were trying not to smile.

"Um... only slightly?"

Mother and Father broke out laughing.

"Odd name for the ship," Rex said to no one in particular as the carriage pulled up near the pier.

"What is?" Matty said, clambering over to look out the window. "E-T-S Hildegard," his son read.

He waited. Shortly, he was treated to the sight of something clicking inside his son's head.

"Wait, isn't that Grandmother's name?"

"Yes, yes it is," he said offhandedly, thinking. "It's not exactly a common name around here, so I wonder..."

Eh, he'd find out soon enough.

The carriage stopped and the footman opened the door. He reached a hand up to help, only for Matthias to barrel through the door and hop to the ground with an almost perfect landing.

The amused footman offered a hand to him, but he declined it with a thankful nod. He stuck the landing only slightly better than Matty had. Well. He had the excuse that he didn't travel by carriage much. This was his... third time? Yes, third.

But anyway, time to help the lady wife. He turned, offering a hand—

To nothing as Ellis stepped lightly off the coach's frame to land gracefully on her feet. Perfect landing. Raising an eyebrow, he extended his elbow it out to Ellis. With a teasing smile his wife slipped a hand into the crook of his arm, and together they made their way to the dock and the five people waiting patiently. Sir Davien and the two other escorting knights had also dismounted and were trailing behind them with their luggage.

"By the way, sweetheart," he said to Ellis out of the corner of his mouth, "at least let me try to help you out of the carriage next time. You made me and the footman look bad."

"Oh, I can make a two foot jump like that perfectly fine, you silly man," Ellis said back to him airily.

"Well, yes. But it's the principle of the matter. I'm the husband. You're the wife. The husband helps the wife."

"Well, I suppose. I was going to say that I was handily dodging orcs, gurgs, garvels, and giant zombie dragons before you were born, but then I realized you could reply with how you beat a god senseless with a sword made of light. So by my decree you are allowed to help up or down from quote-unquote high places next time."

"My, my, how gracious of you, Countess Roaring Cove," he said, giving Ellis a playful nudge in her ribs with his elbow. She squawked at the poke, but wasn't able to retaliate because they were close enough that the waiting ship's crew could see any retaliation she tried to level at him. His wife had to settle with briefly sticking her tongue out at him.

He stepped forward and offered his hand to the one standing out in front, a tall, athletic woman with red hair and deeply tanned skin. Wait, not tanned skin. He could see her ears sticking out to the sides from beneath her cap. A dark elf. Interesting. Dark elves weren't normally known as a seafaring people.

The dark elf's grip was dry and firm. The woman also shook hands with Ellis, interestingly enough.

"Good afternoon, Count Roaring Cove, Countess, Master Matthias," the woman said, addressing all three of them. "My name is Yshae, the captain of Enhambre Transoceanic Ship Hildegard. With me are my boatswain, Buckland," she indicated a heavyset, grizzled man who somehow didn't look sloppy in his uniform, which seemed to be cream-colored, loose-fitting pants, a black boots, a white shirt, and a gold-trimmed red jacket with a strange insiginia on the left breast. The bosun extended a hand to him, and he took it. Slightly damp, but also a firm grip. Buckland didn't offer to shake Ellis' hand, but gave a respectful bow.

"Here we have Midshipmen Samuel and Harper," Yshae continued, indicating two small figures flanking the captain. The two boys couldn't have been more than twelve, if that. Samuel was the larger of the two, with a bright grin and friendly brown eyes that matched his hair. Harper was noticeably smaller, with intelligent green eyes, freckles, and what looked to be messy blond hair. The two cadets shook his hand, and Ellis'. Interestingly, Harper also shook Matty's hand, much to his son's puzzlement.

"That is it for my officers and senior staff," Yshae said. The dark elf turned to the last person, a slim, middle-aged man with a hawkish nose and short blond hair. "And now, I suppose, a word from our sponsor."

The man stepped forward. He was wearing a uniform jacket just like the ship's crew, but without the patches and rank insignias.

"Hello. I'm the president of Enhambre Transoceanic. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Enhambre, hmm? Made sense. The island nation had an extensive maritime history, so he had made sure to have the person planning his travel arrangements chartered a ship from there. He hadn't expected some kind of group or company, though.

Something was odd, too. The man had given his position, but not his name. And he seemed content with stroking the one decoration on his dress jacket, an insignia that looked like a skull and cross—

"Wait a moment!" Ellis suddenly exclaimed beside him. "It can't be! Kilik?"

"Yes it is indeed, Miss Ellis," the man—Kilik, apparently—said. "Was wondering if you were going to remember me."

"Well, of course I would remember you," his wife said. "I just wasn't expecting," Ellis indicated the ship and the crew, "this."

Kilik nodded in understanding.

He was having trouble placing this man. He didn't know any Kilik. Ellis obviously did, and she had most likely met him in Enhambre. But he couldn't remember.

Wait, hold a moment. He looked again to the ship. Hildegard. His mother had been, before meeting his father Duran, the head captain of a small pirate flotilla. The Death Cross pirates, if he remembered right. So what was this man doing with a ship named Hildegard, though? He obviously wasn't a pirate. And Kilik, Kilik... Now that he thought about it, the name was actually familiar to him. He thought about some of the stories Ellis had told him about his father's forays in Enhambre. One of them had involved a coup by one of Hildegard's crew, a man named Vlady. Leading a countercoup had been...

A man named Kilik.

Ah.

He noticed everyone had stopped talking.

Kilik grinned. "You remember me? Or at least, the stories about me, Mister Rex?"

He nodded. "Yes. Just barely remembered stories that my wife told me when I was younger, I'm afraid."

The president nodded. "Fair enough. That being said, I'm sure Miss Ellis is still confused why I'm addressed as 'president' and not 'pirate king' or something."

"Yes, that did cross my mind," his wife said with a grin.

Kilik nodded. "To be honest, Hildegard was never truly comfortable with piracy. Oh, she knew how it was done, and she could do it just fine, but deep down she was hoping for something different. Something better."

He suddenly remembered Chaos' words.

"After the... sealing, or whatever it was, I was left in command of the Death Cross pirates. Because of the coup, those who had vehemently opposed Hildegard's ideals were dead or dispersed. So I pretty much found myself with a like-minded, highly-skilled crew.

"So we started changing up a bit. Instead of piracy, we started hiring out as protective escorts for merchant ships. Since we had been good pirates, we made good anti-pirates, if you get my drift. Eventually, business started to dry up on that front and we started doing mercantile jobs. Removed some of the cannons to increase cargo space, things like that. And with our skill and experience, we were very popular with clients."

"Sometime later we were approached by Beatrice and her flotilla of ocean-crossing ships. We signed on as mercenaries with the group, and, if I can proudly say, did what we could to help defeat Chaos' armies.

"Eventually, you took down Chaos, the world was reborn... and the oceans were now open to ships even without special artifacts or powers or whatever. To make a long story short, a few business deals here, a few purchases there, and Enhambre Transoceanic was born. We're only about twenty ships strong right now, but we're also the most experienced group out there. We're establishing trade routes, trading partners, the works. Well." Kilik shrugged. "My co-owners are really the ones doing the hard work. I never had a mind for complex business dealing like that. I just make sure we have the right men in the right place, and make sure they stay motivated. Hence why I'm here and not stuffed in an office. I'm nonessential."

He heard Yshae chuckle. "With all due respect sir, I'll insist that you're at least semi-essential."

Kilik laughed. "Damn with faint praise, why don't you?" The president shook his head. "That's the story in a nutshell. If you would like to come aboard and get settled, we could discuss more when we get under way. High tide is in two hours."

Yshae snapped her fingers. "All right! Mister Buckland, get some men to get the Count's and Countess' luggage up for them!"

"Luggage detail, aye, Ma'am!"

His son stepped forward, eyes wide.

"Wait! Tell them to be super careful with the bottles!"

The ship was big. And since he had never been on a ship before—rowboats didn't count—this was a cool new experience. Mother and Father were talking with Kilik and Yshae in one of the cabins, while Sir Davien was with the other knights getting settled into their rooms, which left him alone. Well, at least he had time to explore.

Matthias wandered around the deck, making sure to stay out of the sailors' ways. There was a lot of loading going on, with the sailors going up and down the gangplank and winching stuff up onto the deck.

He made his way to the rear of the ship, and saw Boatswain Buckland and Midshipman Samuel on a raised portion at the back of the ship. Buckland was watching the sailors moving around on the deck, sometimes shouting commands at them—and sometimes words his mother probably wouldn't want him to repeat—while Samuel was scanning the skies with a spyglass. He climbed the stairs up to them.

"Uh, good afternoon, Boatswain Buckland, Midshipman Samuel," he said formally. He wasn't sure how to address them, honestly, so he just copied the words Captain Yshae had addressed them with. Mother had said ships were very strict, so he was going to be super polite.

"Good afternoon, Master Raglan," the boatswain rumbled to him. "And, if you would, 'Bosun' works just fine when addressing me."

"Okay, Bosun, um, sir."

"I'm no officer, Master Raglan, so a 'sir' isn't needed. But thank you, though."

"Okay, Bosun."

Buckland chuckled.

Next to him Samuel lowered the spyglass, shaded his eyes with a hand, then looked through the spyglass again.

"Bosun, I think I see her. Mile or so out, but coming fast."

Her? Her who?

"Good eye, Mister Samuel. If I could make a suggestion, I think it'd be best to inform the captain."

"Of course. I'll do that."

"Very good, sir."

He scratched his head at how Buckland was talking to Samuel formally. Wasn't Buckland like the boss, or something? Hmm.

Samuel started moving down the stairs, disappearing into a door beneath where they stood.

"Bosun, could I ask a question?"

"Go right ahead, Master Raglan."

"Why do you address Midshipman Samuel as sir? And why, uh, suggest stuff to him instead of ordering him like the other sailors?"

"Ah. Well, you see, Master Raglan, Midshipman Samuel—and Midshipman Harper, of course—are officer cadets. Midshipmen rank higher than me, so we refer to them as Midshipman, or Mister, or Sir. Or Miss or Ma'am." Buckland had added the last part after a few moments.

"Oh, I see. Thanks."

"Of course, Master Raglan."

"Oh, one more thing. Who was, uh, Mister Samuel looking for?"

"One of our last two passengers, Master Raglan."

Matthias talked with the bosun for a couple of minutes more. During that time a harpuia had landed, and not long after a man on a horse had also arrived at the pier.

Captain Yshae and the two midshipman came out from the aft cabin area—Buckland had told him a little about the areas of the ship—and made their way down the gangplank. He rushed over to the other side of the poop deck and watched the captain greet the two last passengers.

One of the newcomers was a girl with black wings and blue hair. He couldn't tell how old she was. He did see that she was wearing form-fitting breeches with a white sleeveless tunic, and had a holstered pistol strapped to her thigh. The only luggage she had was a satchel and a small pack slung across her back.

The other was a large man. The captain was a slightly shorter then Father. The man—who had long red hair and very pale skin that contrasted with his black clothing and cloak—was nearly two heads taller than Captain Yshae. Wow! That meant he was even bigger than Sir Davien, and Sir Davien was the biggest man he knew. The sword that the pale man carried in a baldric had to be massive, as well. The man had some bags lashed to his horse, which some sailors released and carried into the ship.

The five of them made their way down the pier and towards the ship. The door beneath the poop deck opened again and Mother, Father, and Kilik appeared, walking towards the quarterdeck.

He a gave a wave to Buckland and ran down the stairs to catch up with Mother and Father.

Mother turned just as he got to them.

"How was the ship, Matty?" Mother asked him.

"It was cool," he replied. "So much stuff to look at. Buckland—uh, I mean, the bosun—is going to show some more stuff about sailing later, if he has the time."

"Just be careful. A ship's very dangerous."

"I know, Mother. I'm not, like, going to jumped on top of the rails or anything."

Mother just chuckled, reaching out a hand to stroke his hair. Urg. Embarrassing!

"Not just falling overboard. Rigging and ropes can be dangerous. The yards and spars on the masts can hurt you, too. And hatches opening if you're not careful. That kind of thing."

Whoa. The ship was dangerous. It was like ten times more interesting now.

Wait, hold on. His eyes widened. His mother was using words like the ones Bosun Buckland had.

Mother grinned at him. "I sailed on a ship with your grandmother for a couple of weeks," she explained to him. "I'm no expert, but I remember her telling me to always be careful. I suppose I'll have to teach your father about how walls are called bulkheads and so on."

"Okay," he said, still amazed his mother knew this kind of stuff. He was classifying the bosun as being pretty cool, so hearing Mother talk so knowledgeably about her ship made her cooler.

Whoa.

During this the captain, the midshipmen, the harpuia—who didn't look any older than Father—and the pale man appeared on the deck. He wondered how they would react to—

"Murmina, Vashtor, it's good to see you again," Father said to them with a wide smile.

Wait, what? He was still trying to wrap his brain around that when the harpuia lady rushed forward and gave Father a tight hug. He noticed that the lady's face lit up when she hugged father, as well. She was a little pretty, but the harpuia had sad, golden eyes. When she had seen Father and Mother, her eyes had lit up and her lips had widened into a dazzling smile. She was suddenly very pretty.

The harpuia lady hugged mother as well, just as tight. Then she came to him.

He suddenly felt very shy.

"Hello," the lady said to him in a slow, quiet voice. "Matthias, is it? I'm Murmina, an old friend of your mother and father."

He wasn't sure how to respond. He thought about something Sir Davien and Father had always said, though, that, if you were unsure how to address a person, politeness was never bad.

"Yes, my name is Matthias," he said carefully, extending his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Murmina."

Murmina looked surprised, but she shook his hand. He made extra sure to also follow what Father and Sir Davien had said, that handshakes should always be firm and not like a dead fish. He always wondered what a dead fish handshake would be like, though, since they had fins and no hands.

The harpuia stepped away, giving room for the huge man—Vashtor, right?—to extend an arm to father. To his surprise, Father and the pale man didn't shake hands normally, but instead grasped each other's forearms and shook like that instead. Vashtor didn't shake hands with mother or hug her, but gave her a deep bow. Then, of course, Vashtor came to him, hand also extended.

After thinking about it for a second, Matthias reached out his hand, shaking Vashtor's like his father had, hand to forearm. This time it was Vashtor's turn to looks surprised. The pale man looked at father, who just smiled. He noticed that Vashtor's eyes were strange. They were black instead of white, with golden irises.

"I have to say, I wasn't expecting either of you," Father said to them.

"We have free time," Murmina said. "With Uttara Kulu finally rebuilt and garrisoned, some of the pressure was finally taken off of us."

"Murmina and I are what's called vanguard scouts," Vashtor explained. "Basically we're an independent roaming group that patrols portions of Aegisthus that aren't covered by main forts. Added with the regular harpuia patrols that come out of Uttara Kulu, most of the continent is considered secure."

"And there's not many demonic forces anymore, what with Summerill banished," said Murmina. "Honestly, the last time we've seen an actual orc or goblin, and not just a roaming pack of werewolves or warlocks, it was half a year ago. There was about a half dozen of them terrorizing a small settlement a little west of Limburg."

"It didn't end well for them," Vashtor added.

Well, that was it. Vashtor was confirmed cool.

"Anyway, around that time we received some letters from Zerva about the monuments in Lucrellia. With the continent as protected as it can be, I requested some extended leave time for the two of us. The commanders allowed it, we chartered a ship, and here we are."

"Coincidence?" he heard his father ask, turning to Kilik.

The president shrugged, smiling widely. "Possibly."

"That's good, then," he heard Mother say. "Glad to have you with us."

"Likewise," Vashtor replied.

"And now that the reunion is over, I think it's almost time for us to depart," cut in Kilik. "High tide is just about to set in, and I think Captain Yshae would like to get under way as soon as possible."

"Quite right, sir." The captain turned down to look at him. "And if the Count and Countess do not mind, Master Raglan is allowed to observe from the poop deck if he wishes. A certain bosun told me he was curious about the operation of a ship."

Oh, nice! He looked expectantly at Mother and Father. Father just smiled, but Mother looked a little unsure.

"I don't know. Are you sure he won't be in the way?"

"Not in the least. Midshipman Harper, please accompany Master Raglan and answer his questions. And, of course, make sure he's not in the way."

"Accompany Master Raglan, aye, Captain," the blond said.

Cool!

"Ah, what a day," Rex said as she sat down heavily on the cot next to his wife.

"It's been tiring," Ellis agreed. "But it's nice to see some familiar faces again."

"Yeah. It was good to see those two again. Murmina and Vashtor look good."

"Mm-hmm."

The Hildegard had weighed anchor and was traveling along the coast, heading west towards Enhambre. Up till now Matty had been able to explore the ship with Harper, and, eventually, Samuel. He hoped Matthias wouldn't get bored, since the sea journey was going to be very long, but, knowing how creative his son was, he wasn't too worried about that.

Speaking of Matthias, he hadn't seen a sign of the boy since the midshipmen had whisked him away.

Hmm.

"Also nice to see Matthias having fun and being... occupied so deeply," he chanced.

He knew Ellis was tired, but how tired? Maybe...

"It is. I'm just worried about when he runs out of things to poke at."

Darn. Either Ellis hadn't gotten the hint, or she really was too tired.

"Oh, I don't know about that," he said, keeping any trace of disappointment out of his voice. "Bored is one thing I don't think Matty could ever be."

He looked down at the floor as he said that. Oh well. They had plenty of time ahead of—

He heard Ellis giggle.

Blinking, he looked at his wife.

Grinning, Ellis scooted close to him, moving her face close to his.

"Rex Raglan, you just simply aren't the subtle type, are you?"

He put on a sheepish grin. "It was that obvious?"

"More than obvious."

"Eh, maybe I just need practice?"

"Maybe I'll just have to drill it into you," his wife said with an impish grin.

"Sounds like it could be difficult. Then again, I doubt that's going to change anything. After all, like you always love to point, you're not inclined to go easy on me."

"Oh, no indeed."

With another giggle, Ellis pushed him down onto the bed.