Gulls cried far above, their playful and shrill caws cleaving through the gentle lapping of endless azure. However, while the aureate rays reflected off from the serene ocean, the thinning waves below only grew more patient; as the distant spire of land arose to pierce the few clouds and split the sky. It's monotonous silhouette was a stain upon the peaceful surroundings, and the gradual scent of the coast soon slipped into her senses. She couldn't help but frown mildly at this undaunting figure splayed as the final target.
Velvet's fierce thuds that clicked across bruised boards called to the ears of all who awaited on deck. Form splitting from the shadows of the berthing - as if retracting darkness itself - she was no Captain, but emerging from the belowdeck with those rough, striking orbs of gold: all eyes were on her, and that fit the daemon just fine. While the embers of passion hollowed out among the innocent sunshine, the ever hard-working pirates dove back into their mechanical routine, tireless in their experience. They didn't matter, her focus was on the colourful cast awaiting upon the blinding horizon, atop the contrasting bow from the stern that still lay crooked and cracked.
Each individual felt the change in the once undisturbed air, and turned as her familiar presence was felt. Rokurou's face had barely changed from his confident - and frankly irritable - grin as his battle-hungry irises settled upon her. Velvet could catch the extra hint of anticipation evident with that orange hue. Magilou spun with a careless laugh, swishing arms as if flapping along the busy deck with her dramatic prancing. Laphicet, as innocent as ever, waved over with an exclamation of excitement upon catching the advance.
And Eizen, the Reaper, did not seem particularly impressed at all. Uncharacteristically, he stomped over first, a striking sterness with an irritated crook in his brow. "Velvet, what did you do to my ship?" the blonde pirate gruffly demanded, coldly pronouncing her as the perpetrator.
Matching the sapphire glint with a dry, bandaged wave to the air, Velvet scanned the ship with a casual hand resting upon her sported hip. "Seems that was a rough storm." The daemon stepped past without another look, stalking up to broad island encroaching upon their bowsprit. Eizen felt his eyes drop in agitation, and blew off the daemoness' antics with a grunt, before keeping on her heel to stand aside with the group once again.
The unshakeable and unmistakable Van Eltia rocked solemnly along the rolling blue with each beat of Velvet's calloused heart; flesh honed by its emotional pulse akin to erosion of searock. Voices soon cut the air, no less interested in the circumstance due to a certain half-malak's return, stated only by her words in the dead of night: 'He's back,' was all the daemoness had stated to their sudden shock, the motionless and injured body of the man himself unspecified.
"So, it's true that Sarid is back then?" the samurai asked with a grating smirk, crossing his arms with the delicate swirl of his kimono billowing in the coastal breeze. Velvet's response was a wordless nod.
Next, a patter of feet upon drying wood, and a small voice gently murmured from behind, "Oh, well, can I go see him?" Laphicet had requested meekly, hands settling on one another nervously.
Still refusing to turn away from what had arrested her thoughts, Velvet remained blank with her responses, yet the boy's voice did so easily pull at that emotional vase within. "Do what you want, not my problem," she dismissed with a glancing wave off.
And eventually, she felt that haughty cackle and irritable voice splice her eardrums, as Magilou finally hopped forward; a teasing smile plastered over a circus witch. "'Not your problem,' you say? Should have told us when you carried him to your room! How scandalous~" she playfully yapped, pulling at her eyelid with a goofy tongue show. Unsurprisingly, this scored an agitated groan from the daemon that flexed her arm with impatience.
Thwack!
"Ow! Hey-!"
"That aside..." the stoic pirate grumbled, stepping forward after batting the nuisance backwards, "Is he in fighting condition? He's been gone for a while, especially alone," Eizen inquired and hooking a finger into his pocket.
"He's in perfectly fine condition," Velvet stated without hesitation, the newly mild cuts embroidered upon shredded material going unnoticed by the group. "If otherwise, none of you would have even known he was back." After that particularly dark comment that was no less truth, the group fell into a stark silence: calmly awaiting the docking of their ship or the emergence of their half-malakhim.
A whisk of calling winds, a caw of sea-life rumbling below, and with the washing of twisting waters wrenched below; calm yet patient, did the figure clad in white emerge undeterred from the creaking berth. In contrast to the mistress of dark, his noble colour was accented long before her striking form manifested from the dwelling shadows. Even with his hesitant steps that grew upon the watch of weltering sun-rays, she could catch the great shine eclipse the jagged thorns of exhaustion at each sclera; and the weary plods wore away into that same casual yet restrained walk she had grown accustomed to. Maybe the half-malak hadn't changed much in the end, but maybe, that was for the better. 'Maybe'.
However, soon came the tighten of gloves, click of bones and the readying inhale of a blade creeping from its sheath. Sarid paused upon the eery deck, composed among the tense silence; what the Reaper and Samurai had inadvertently caused. That calm look didn't falter, as the daemon watched from the back, steely side-eyed and merely steps from the ever steadfast bowsprit. And lastly, could he not forget the bounding of the bright witch slither onto the scene with a proud, smug grin with fiendish green irises.
"What a twist!" Magilou howled dramatically with a haughty laugh, "Seems we hadn't lost one after all! But of course, I, the incredible and illustrious Magilou, could have only predicted thi-!"
Smack!
Eventually, a gauntleted arm swung past to clasp over the Jester's endless spewing of meaningless words, leaving the bombastic blonde to sink with disappointment.
With a slow and reassuring raise of 'hands', the half-malak etched a relaxed smile to curve upon features; eyeing the silent watcher with a shake of his head. Those same blanched strands shifted with the soothing winds, "Velvet, couldn't you have warned them?" he interjected through the wary atmosphere. At this sudden revelation, Eizen stifled the fierce fist he firmly clenched, and Rokurou faltered at his drawing of knives. Remaining focused upon the suspicious circumstance, it did not stop the cautious pair from proclaiming their surprise at the marred beauty who barely lift a palm to address the tension. Velvet had dealt with enough from the night before.
"Didn't have time," she dryly retorted; casually lying through her teeth while disregarding the concern with a flick of a bandaged wrist that sent a whirl of colour tumbling, yelping dramatically, "Do it yourself." At such dehabilitating callousness, Sarid couldn't hold back the sigh of expected disbelief, and dropped those ornate arms with a shrug.
"What's going on? Velvet?" the innocent Laphicet inquired meekly, as he crept out from the sides of the stern warriors at bear, and the daemoness simply nodded back towards the figure draped in cleanly monochrome. Emotion flashed through the young boy's verdant orbs; excitement, joy yet flooded with confusion and worry at these combatting forces between assumed allies.
"Not now Laphicet," she ordered sharply, a flat line running along pressed lips.
And, she swore the half-malak nearly tripped back in surprise at the aforementioned statement, flinching acutely with the settling silence that compassed the group upon the mention of his name. The expansive group paid no mind to this slight stumble in exterior, but Velvet immediately caught the disbelieving blitz seize his once unshakeable expression; clear as the light that reigned upon their swift sails. Nevertheless, the catch slipped away akin to a tracing gale, and the man's serenity in the face of his supposed allies was pulled on again, a mask of steel melted by a burning gaze for the second time.
"I did mention my experience with beasts and the such," the resolute malakhim began with an honest tone, "No mind the whole daemonic prison for an extra 2 years..." Sarid's forearms - draconic vines of artistic desire mangled with the withering roots of human flesh - were loose at his sides; vulnerable and ashamed. Newly ignited eyes of piercing indigo clambered up to reach the dark silhouette poised upon the bow, only the curves of resilient, cold skin taking the limelight in the enshrouding sun. Amber stare goading to spit out the final reason. He sighed. "...And travelling with you. I guess it caught up to me in the end, so now these are back."
Sarid displayed a hand out towards them again, specifically presenting the golden gradient to be enshrined upon the burning rays above, and the spiteful daemon could see its unnatural etchings clearly. "Remember? 'I've dealt with daemons my whole life,' I figure that makes sense now. Either way, I've now gotta job to do."
Velvet huffed lowly, those familiar clicks of jittering chains sounding out as she finally stepped down from the bow's perch and sauntered towards him again; devoid of aggression yet steely and cold as the midnight breeze. "Clothes?" Hazel gestured down towards his fresh garments that cloaked the torn wear beneath.
"...Exorcists."
"Sword?"
"A... Praetor...?"
She clicked her tongue with eyes of unseen contemplation. Her next words were final.
"...Fine, I don't care anymore, you can come along." And, the intense atmosphere dissipated within seconds of this announcement. With the shattering of any serious matter being the ability of a particular circus witch, she pranced forward with that ever-so vibrant grin of impish delight.
"Welp! What's one more freak to our band of misfits? A ticking time bomb, what a treat!"
Flocking together, the group approached the bow as one; birds of a feather, with the resounding discussions of their brief travels apart, a reoccurring thanks from the young boy, and the returning half-malak's almost impossible change with his isolation alone. Nonetheless, this was a world of supernatural daemonic creatures and descending angels of the strangest types, each and every one had their secrets to tell and deepest pasts to smother. In the wake of a samurai's unyielding and joyful demands for a duel right upon sighting Sarid's pristine and masterfully 'crafted' blade, an accented shout and rattling cheer of agreement ruffled the peace of the swaying Van Eltia.
"LAND HO!" A blonde pirate - Benwick - cried out with the energetic tweeting of a bird, catching the undivided attention and focus of the reformed group, as the dock was finally sighted upon the horizon; the dominating spire of great Loegres standing far above, where Velvet's vengeance lay waiting to be taken.
"Sarid," that cold voice murmured from the side, and Velvet approached expressionless again; specifically keeping an eye upon his ornate forearms that sat contorted with his natural ivory skin. Bringing the bandaged claw to her mouth, the daemoness unwound a few spare lines of the material binding that savage limb, and tore them off with her teeth. Raising to bear, she folded the pile and shoved it to his chest, rolling hazel orbs at his bewilderment. "Wrap up your hands, we can't have you bringing attention to us with them," Velvet explained, the half-malak nodding in understanding as he quickly scoured his inhuman appendages.
~~~
Soon did the daily ruckus of chirping voices whisk away the tranquility of the expansive ocean, the great flapping of their vessels sails casting a grand shadow upon the dock; the chidden sun boiling the growing gales at their backs. Traversing the ramp that led to solid stone ground, the daemoness was first to step down, carefully eyeing the ignorant shine of exorcist warriors dotting the fairly busy yet typical structure. Each one patrolling or formally conversing with the hardworking sailors lashing at cargo, keeping no eye upon the colourful cast of pirate's easily stepping into their weakened society. Bellies full with the grim rewards reaped from battles won.
Even as the world of Desolation collapsed in their irredeemable view of absolute reason and all-powerful valiancy, they paid no heed to the swift, black wolf sweeping into their herd of innocent sheep.
"Now this is refreshing! Sailing into port like normal people." the Samurai exclaimed casually at the complete lack of dangerous eyes brought to their group, his lone ochre iris taking in the fair sights of a life unaffected by relentless purge. High, erected walls of resilient and unbreakable stone surrounding the fluid port, royal azure banners of the Abbey swaying arrogantly atop the prideful outer curtain; countless watchers stationed in turrets of the cornered towers. Many buildings were constructed among countless merchant stalls, dissimilar to the scorched and decimated remains back at Hellewas.
Behind the pair of daemons surveying their unknown surroundings, the rest of the major crew hopped off from the great Van Eltia, while the remaining pirates exchanged resources among the common goers throughout the vibrant dock. Gulls soared far above, their cries that bespoke of their arrival ringing true. Laphicet absorbed the fresh beginning of this new adventure, wide lime eyes similarly scanning the port while a prancing Witch hopped close; "Well done, boy! Seems the sharks are gonna go hungry tonight," she joyfully appraised with a dainty pat of his blonde locks, whimsical.
"Yes, I'm glad!" he excitedly agreed, a sweet smile blossoming upon his features at the affirmation, when another set of steps thudded close. As the slight, flowing scent of crisp autumn came to sense, Laphicet noticed a firm hand almost slap his tiny shoulder in high esteem.
"What the jester said, never thought you could read a compass kid!" Sarid's contagious merriment seeping from his soft lavender, it was soon evident that he had veiled his palms from sight at Velvet's words; the tireless work with his kunai managing to at least shielding everything after his forearm from view. All that was displayed merely appeared as an artistic tattoo to the uninitiated. Nevertheless, this newly human care brought even more shine to the malak's light; even while completely aware of Magilou's sour face at the malak's side.
"I am not a-!"
Fwhoosh
The Witch stood motionless as the pair trodded past, her grand flamboyant hat having been yanked down over her disgruntled expression, a terrible sigh of frustration shifting the brim.
Ahead, the billowing cape of death fluttered in the winds, as the Reaper stalked past the watching daemoness, striding confidently towards an approaching sailor. "This won't be a problem? Docking a pirate ship here?" Velvet had began with an inquiring look, confused at the allowance of such an infamous vessel to dock unopposed. Eizen made no purposeful reaction, his plans perfect and composed as he advanced upon the mysterious sailor that carried recognition in deep brown eyes.
"So!" the worker started with a rumbly etch to his voice, middle-aged but seemingly with friends in far gone places. "How were the northern seas, Eizen?"
Stern and stoic, the blonde malak hooked a thumb into his pocket, and went to relay the pirate's supposed experience and gathered information. "Hellewas is in ruins, a blow was dealt to Vortigen but Exorcist reinforcements moved in too quick. Trade with Northgand will likely be interrupted for a time, though not as long as hoped." The Reaper was quick, concisive and to the point, however the notch was brought down by their failure to completely disassemble the durable stronghold. Until, a clear of a throat, and all eyes gravitated to spheres of violet.
"Vortigen is gone," the calm half-malak revealed comfortably, a hand seemingly always at the ready upon his ornamental scabbard, "The gate's mechanisms were destroyed, and it collapsed into the ocean." Sarid noticed the resting disbelief enforced over familiar faces, but moreso the great Reaper and his 'sailor' accomplice.
"And why, or how would you even know?" Eizen questioned with a narrow of icy blues, crossing arms across his broad chest. Despite the pressure of this demand, Sarid simply snaked out a gleaming blade from his waistband; the glint arising upon the tip in the sweltering daylight was that of a deep, crimson red, trailing upon its edge.
"I'm the proof," he stated with an unforeseen bite in his tone; a bite only emerging after his experience mended sharp teeth. "With handy use of that kunai somebody 'kicked off', those exorcists are now gone. Official story is daemons brought it down, doesn't matter - fact is - you have what you need finished for you." To say the blonde pirate was impressed would be almost altruistic of him, so the malak rose a brow to convey his surprise, but nonetheless turned back to the sailor with that same immovable exterior.
"Well..." the man spoke with a shake of his shoulder, "I like the sound of that. Even still, I'll have to act quickly." With a nod of respect to both malakhim in tandem, the sailor focused his attention back on the [air of eyes that still bore through expectantly.
"Any word of the Captain?" Eizen's form was remaining casual, yet few could notice the shift in his nigh uncrackable demeanour; sharper, attentive, observant. Every word soon to be spoken weighed heavily on this dependance, this was important.
"Aye. It's an old rumour, but word is Captain Aifread was sent to Titania."
Velvet's once bored and vacant orbs lit up with interest as that name was spoken, along with a flood of her experiences that were born there, following through with its chilling title once again. However, the daemoness stayed silent for the moment, crossing arms tightly to control this rain of thought and potentially attest her place in this pirate's story. Nevertheless, her focus was on the Jewel of a city this land held assembled.
"The island prison overseen by the exorcists, eh? We'll have to look into that."
Gesturing a wide display of his hand to the ever beautiful hull of the resilient and steadfast Van Eltia, the sailor pitched in on his favour to serve the rambunctious crew of pirates thanks to this duty; "I registered your vessel as one of our merchantmen, same as always." Although, his rough features did flick to just a few of the many patrolling guardsmen and Abbey forces that kept watch over this fruitful port. "But even so, stay on guard. There's a grand ceremony being held in Loegres, lots of watchful eyes about."
As the merchant jogged off in the wake of his unlawful misconduct, the group gathered around to ponder on this valuable information they had gathered - and to discuss their next plan of heading forward. However, before a decision could be made - let alone even thought of - Laphicet couldn't help but tug on the swaying vestments of the brooding lady, a question hovering to the surface of a childlike mind. "Information for... mooring?" the young boy inquired with a face of confusion plain on his expression.
While a collective mix of sighs or silent questions resounded throughout the group itself, Velvet couldn't force back the wistful grimace siezing her form at the innocent actions this peculiar malak continued to display.
~~~
"Don't bother going to Titania," the daemoness warned Eizen bluntly, pausing the swift pace about to be taken by the pirate. "You won't find Aifread there." Velvet's dead tone immediately caused the malak to turn his head with a fierce glare of undisputed anger, to bubble underneath bolstered flesh. He stepped forward - nearing on a stomp with its thud - to tower over the woman with a cross of his arms. The daemon was unimpressed.
"And how do you figure that?" Eizen's tone virtually rumbled with her proclamation, somehow itched just below the skin; at a stranger warding him away from potentially finding his Captain.
"Because I escaped from there," the daemon bluntly spat to his narrowed eyes, golden orbs only alive with the flicker of wrath for one man; laying empty as a distant plain through the monotonous amble of what's become of daily life. "And before I did, I heard something from the prisoners." With a twist away from the irritating stare, Velvet sank back to recollect under the veil of swaying, midnight strands soaring just before her eyelids. "They said Aifread was the only prisoner to ever get out alive... and that he was taken by an old Exorcist named Melchior."
With this reasonable explanation, the pirate hung back to think on these change of plans, before the light voice of Laphicet rang clear. "Lord Melchior is an elder Legate at the Abbey. He should always be present at the headquarters-"
"-Don't call him lord."
"Van Aifread's our Captain," Eizen explained with a grunt of realisation as he placed both hands back to rest inside pockets; "It's starting to look like his disappearance has connections with the highest levels of the Abbey."
A flash of pink leaned in close to intrude upon this quiet discussion, the Samurai at her back with a humorous grin, "Their headquarters should be in the capital, right~?" Magilou sang with a two-finger salute, the conversing pair frowning at her grating joy.
"Yes, at the Royal Villa in Loegres. I've never been there though," the young boy relayed with a shy admittance.
"And Velvet," Rokurou began as he slipped back over to the group, "Your business is with a man in the capital, right?"
Eizen let an evaluatory nod pass. "Looks like we're all heading to the same place."
Spinning a kunai around his finger, Sarid hopped off from a crate with gleeful berthing smirk, "Then I'd say we got our target."
Realising what a group she's towed in on her selfish quest, Velvet shook her head with an already exhausted frown; "I won't apologise for involving you," she stated, dismissively waving off any predicted blame with a close of hazel irises.
The Reaper rose a brow at the strange circumstances he found himself thrown into, "Usually I'm the one who says that...".
As the dwindling final members of the group step towards the vast steps to rise into the grand Port, Velvet decided to stand idle for a few moments longer; until the flapping of snowy white danced in her vision. A sharp, and quick low whistle slipped from her lips, and scored the attention of a wandering half-malak soon to follow on the group's clacking heels. Sarid turned - scooting to allow a meandering Witch to skip past - and let the daemon pull him to the side of the bank.
Velvet wasted no time, and immediately raised a question that had been apparent ever since his return. "We all have our targets, except you," she started bluntly; shifting a hand upon her hip, almost expecting another lie or half-truth to snake from his lips. "What's your plan here, Sarid? You've got to where you wanted, so what else?"
Humming with supposed thought, the half-malak found fair ease in deciding what his next goal was. Allowing the serenity of the ocean to wash over his articulate mind, violet pearls looked into withering aurous, and the voice came through with unyielding determination. Full of emotion, and only emotion. "I'll stick with you all. I aimed to scour the world for a point in this dirt-hole of a life, and... I think I found it." Raising a brow, the ravenette watched Sarid glance at the dangling emblem coiled about his hilt. "Tear the Abbey down, and let the world be taken back by the people who know how to build things." Voice steeled and without remorse, the newly reformed man failed to waver again in the eyes of the Wolf.
So, Velvet huffed a grunt of acceptance, and yet newfound respect was reborn in her empty orbs for the once feeble half-breed. She dryly smacked his shoulder aside, and stepped past with a flick of her hand; "Don't blame me if you die, you chose this," the daemon reminded, rolling hazel eyes in unexpected intrigue. While she passed a bundle of vibrancy - their arms relaxed behind a mess of blonde tendrils - Velvet could easily notice the impish smirk behind the shadow of a wide-brimmed two-pointed hat.
In a growl of irritation, the daemon closed her eyes as Magilou pranced off and back to the leaving group; the high-pitch tweeting of her mocking whistle ringing Velvet's ears with annoyance. Only spurred on by the degrading chuckles at her side. Clenching a bandaged fist...
Smack!
She watched with cruel amusement as the half-malak stumbled in his composed step, gently caressing his head which had just been slammed upon with a fair amount of force. "Agh! What was that for?" he grumbled, sweeping his ruffled whitened strands back into place.
Feeling the slight dregs of remembrance creep back upon her tongue, Velvet sauntered forward with an impassive sway of her wrist; "I'll do it harder if you laugh again."
"Again?" the half-malak sighed tiredly with a scratch of his neck. "You might kill me..."
As the pair stalked forward to catch up with the surveying crew, under the ignorant eyes of the Abbey forces, did the shredded cloak of darkness and crisp coat of noble light shudder in the dire winds; a wolf of the blackest night and a drake of the sunbrazen sky.