The passengers of the Enterprise woke to news both frightening and interesting – the currents had shifted overnight and were dragging the ship towards the shore, anchor and all. The helmsman had indeed woken everyone up at first light and briefed Mid on the situation in advance of the group's decision on making for the mainland.
"Got good news and bad news. Good news – youse will get to shore in a flash. Bad news – the sea is tryin' to run us aground," Mid said when everyone was awake and ready for the day. She waved a spyglass around and continued, "The Enterprise moved nearly nine times her length last night, and it don't look like it's stoppin' soon. So hop in a boat and we'll get youse on your way!"
Jill frowned when she gleaned Mid's meaning.
"You won't be coming with us, Mid?" Jill asked.
The captain of the finest vessel in Valisthea shook her blonde head. "Someone's gotta make sure this lovely girl don't get dashed against the rocks, an' I know these engines better than any of me engineers." She smiled ruefully at Jill and patted a support beam with one hand. "Need her in top shape for when comes time to move again."
Jill, Gav, and Jote descended into the churning waters beside the Enterprise afloat on a tender boat, ready to make for the shore and then onward to Boklad. The morning sun was rising bright and Jill managed to feel hopeful about their chances of discovering the truth.
From atop the main deck with one hand cupped about her mouth and the other waving broadly through the air, Mid called out, "If you lot see our boys out there, bring 'em home!"
In the waters moving with great speed to the mainland, Jill steeled her resolve.
Jill would try. By the gods, Jill would try.
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It was only a short distance from Kihel's house to the Crimson Caravans, and Joshua made the trek gladly in an attempt to keep Clive from wandering around Boklad with his reputation and Torgal both in tow. There was nothing else for it – Joshua's brother and the frost wolf were simply too recognizable. Cid the Outlaw had oft been sighted with his faithful hound by his side, and the wolf himself had a fair few enemies within the realm. Joshua had heard tell of Torgal knocking Imperial soldiers from cliffs, of all things, not to mention the carnage the hound had dealt among the Dhalmekian and Waloedian armies.
The people of Boklad still seemed on edge with the fall of Origin and the magic fading from the land. Joshua kept a hand on the pommel of his blade while he walked and noted many of the locals eyeing him suspiciously.
Clive had said that the proprietor of the Crimson Caravans was called Eloise, and that her brother Theodore had been an unmarked Bearer who had escaped from the constables with Eloise's help. The two of them allied themselves with Clive after he took over the role of Cid and attempted to subvert the trade of Bearers in Valisthea. Theodore had unfortunately fallen victim to an aetherflood before the rise of Origin. Joshua had never had a proper introduction to either of them, though he thought they both seemed like decent people from what he heard.
Thus, it was rather confusing and surprising when Joshua knocked on the front door of the Crimson Caravans storefront and received an angrily barked "What do you want?" from whoever stood behind it.
"Excuse me," Joshua said, "I'm asking after a woman named 'Eloise.' My brother, Clive, bade me ask her for a favor."
The door was wrenched open and Joshua found himself facing down the menacing point of a dagger. The woman holding the grip of it looked livid.
"Mind your tongue, scoundrel!" The woman snarled.
Joshua, his hands up in surrender, backed away from the building as slowly as he could manage. It would not do to get himself killed by a simple blade now that he had successfully defied fate.
"Begging your pardon, My Lady," Joshua said warily, "I meant no offense."
"I have it on good authority that Clive is dead," the woman spat, "as are the men who went with him into that abomination. I invite you to leave, pretender!"
"I believe your source may be outdated…Lady Eloise, I presume?" Joshua asked.
Joshua reached into the pouch at his hip and withdrew the seal that Clive had presented him with before he left Kihel's house. Upon seeing the seal emblazoned with the Collar & Compass, Eloise allowed the tip of her dagger to drop and an air of wary confusion settled about her.
"Will you allow me to explain, Lady Eloise?"
Eloise cast her eyes around the doorway and ushered Joshua inside, "Come in. We'll talk."
()
Joshua took the time to explain the events leading up to and immediately after the fall of Origin while sitting across from Eloise in a small parlor. A steaming cup of tea sat before him and he took a few sips out of respect. Eloise was understandably off-put by the contradiction.
"You're all three alive, then? I don't understand," Eloise said, shaking her head. "I received the stolas not five days ago from the Hideaway – Clive, his brother, and the Imperial Prince all fell when that crystal fell from the sky."
"A stolas?" Joshua asked. "Who sent it to you?"
"Jill Warrick," answered Eloise.
Joshua's stomach sank.
Oh, no. Jill believed all three of them were dead.
He needed to speak with Clive.
"Forgive me, Lady Eloise. I must meet with my brother," Joshua stood abruptly and made for the door. "I shall return later to ask that favor of you."
Joshua pulled open the door just as someone on the other side was reaching their hand up to knock. Joshua reached out to steady the woman who had stumbled backwards when he startled her, an apology on the tip of his tongue.
He registered the woman's features and dress. His hands still gripped her upper arms. Joshua blinked.
Mystified, the woman spoke, "Your Grace?"
And Joshua found his voice.
"Jote!"
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When Lady Warrick bade her seek out Eloise at the Crimson Caravans for information about any suspicious persons seen lately in Boklad, Jote had been at once upset and grateful for the order. Upset at being sent away from the market, where the greatest chance of finding His Grace and His Imperial Highness was, and grateful to be assigned to the task most likely to result in only information. Information felt far safer to her than discovering her charge; what would she say if she encountered His Grace in the marketplace?
Quite apparently, the only words she was able to conjure were "Your Grace?" as the former Dominant of the Phoenix gripped her arms to keep her from falling.
"Jote!"
Jote had not expected Joshua Rosfield to be present at the Crimson Caravans when she was making her inquiries. She had expected to ask after newcomers to the town matching the descriptions of Prince Dion Lesage and the Archduke Regent Joshua Rosfield, and to receive some small piece of a larger puzzle which may culminate in divining their location. After several days of desperate travel, hoping to find more evidence of either man or the hound that they followed, Jote had come to not expect very much, at all.
She certainly had not expected to weep at the knowledge that His Grace had, in fact, survived the fall of Origin and stood before her seemingly uninjured. However, her head bowed forward and tears dripped down her face nonetheless. Within her own mind, Jote cursed her lack of decorum.
He was alive.
Eighteen years Jote had spent attending to and growing alongside Joshua Rosfield, the Phoenix, the heir to the ducal throne. For the last five years of their time together, Jote had been forced to watch his health decline rapidly while she could do nothing to aid him. Her goal had been the continuance of his life for so long that the thought of his death made her physically ill. He was not dead, though, he was alive.
The grip on her arms did not wane, and after a moment Jote felt able to raise her head and speak once more.
"My apologies," she gasped out, "Your Grace."
"There is no need," he said, blue eyes bright, and pulled Jote forward into an embrace.
He looked well, now - healthy, Jote thought absently - no longer pale, gaunt, fading.
"I have so much to tell you," Jote said, stunned against his shoulder.
"I daresay we shall have time enough to tell everything that needs to be told," he murmured.
Jote breathed and embraced him back.
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Dion believed the market was less chaotic than the day before, though not by a significant margin. Vendors and patrons barked at each other regarding prices of goods, the quality of those same goods, and the means by which the vendors had come by the goods. Dion and Terence passed more than one stall at which it appeared that the vendor was prepared to engage in fisticuffs with a patron; they gave those stalls a wide berth and continued to travel through the marketplace in search of supplies for their journey.
The market was raucous with its constant sales, milling about of men and women, and the cacophonous mixture of bright colors and overpowering smells.
Terence had more familiarity with the intricacies of the Boklad Markets, so Dion stood nearby and kept as close a guard as he was able while Terence navigated the space. He thanked his foresight in liberating several weapons from the marketplace of Ran'dellah when he passed through with Torgal. He would have preferred to have his spear, though a broadsword was more than serviceable for these circumstances.
It was when Dion was sweeping the market with his eyes in the process of keeping watch that the vendor Terence was speaking to delivered a grave warning.
"Keep yer wits about ye, lad," the vendor said while handing over the dried meat Terence had purchased, "folks talkin' bout a ship in the bay flyin' no colors."
"A ship in the bay?" Terence asked in surprise, "With the currents so wild? How?"
"Nobody knows. Wife says it's pirates," the vendor explained, "takin' advantage of the chaos."
Dion cut in. "This ship – besides flying no colors, have you heard tell of its appearance?"
From what Dion had learned, the only real ship which might cause concern was the Einherjar, though its master was dead and the vessel itself was said to be at the bottom of the sea. The suspicious ship could always be from the Ironblood fleet, though their presence in Valisthea had been scarce since the destruction of Drake's Breath and the slaying of their patriarch. The Ironblood were too proud of their cause to not fly their own banners on their ships, however…
"Not much, just that it were big and puttin' off smoke like it were on fire," the vendor replied.
Realization prickled at Dion's mind. There was only one ship in the world that Dion knew of that emitted smoke – the Enterprise, designed and built by Cid and Midadol Telamon. The Prince himself had traveled aboard the Enterprise to Ash and escaped from an akashic hoard upon the selfsame vessel. With the status of the Free Cities of Kanver still unknown to him, though, could Dion trust that whoever now crewed the Enterprise was a friend?
Dion pulled Terence close and whispered in his ear. "We should make for the house – I believe I know that ship and who may be aboard it."
Terence dipped his head and turned to thank the vendor for the advice and the dried meat. Dion went back to looking around, on guard more than ever with a greater potential threat in the midst of the market.
Clive would want to know about the presence of the Enterprise in the bay, Dion reasoned, and he may even insist on staying in Boklad until such time that the identities of the ship's passengers were illuminated. On the chance that Midadol Telamon was captaining the ship, or that anyone else from the Hideaway was in attendance…
Once Terence was done conversing with the vendor, he and Dion began to make their way to the marketplace entrance as quickly as they could in the throngs of people. Dion kept his hand on his sword's pommel with the hope of deterring pickpockets.
Dion caught a flash of blue and silver, vibrant and out of place in the market's reds, pinks, greens, and sepia brown. She was entering the market as Terence and Dion were leaving, and Dion reached out and caught a blue dyed leather glove with his left hand.
"Shiva?" Dion asked incredulously.
And it was her – silver hair, ice-blue eyes, blue leathers, and elegant rapier at her side.
The former Dominant stared at Dion for a moment in shock and then clasped the hand he had wrapped around her wrist to pull him away from the crush of patrons attending the market. Terence hurried after them as did a blonde man with one eye whom Dion had seen before at Cid's Hideaway. Once the four of them were away from the main body of the crowd, she turned to Dion and speech spilled from her lips.
"Prince Dion!" Shiva said urgently. "You're alive! Is—is Joshua…?" She asked tentatively.
Dion's mind raced.
If Shiva's Dominant was asking after Joshua, she must not know that Clive still lived, either. Indeed, that the three of them had perished in the fall of Origin was the only logical conclusion to make. And Dion had looked away to give the two of them privacy before their departure for Origin, but the Prince knew that Clive and Shiva's Dominant had shared more than simple friendship between them. She needed to know, and she needed to know now.
"I have much to tell you about the aftermath of our battle with Ultima," Dion said.
Shiva and the blond man looked on expectantly.
()
For the second time in as many days, Dion found himself running with some urgency to the home that Kihel and Terence inhabited on the outskirts of Boklad.
The Prince had had his own reunion with one dearest to him and wished the same for Shiva – Jill, Dion corrected himself, Jill Warrick – and the one she held dear. Thus, he led the way back to the house as fast as he was able in order to reunite her with Clive.
Jill had nearly collapsed when Dion expressed that both Joshua and Clive were alive and well, and her companion (Gav? Gavin?) had steadied her. The woman had drawn a sharp, deep breath and instantly composed herself before asking Dion to guide her to Clive's location.
This was one reunion of which further delay would constitute tragedy, and Dion patently refused to contribute. The four made hastily for the house.
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If Clive did not die of his own stupidity, Joshua may have to murder the man when he found him.
"Do you know where he may have gone?" Joshua asked Kihel. Jote looked on with worried countenance.
Kihel shook her head to indicate a negative. "He moved the curtain and a girl was there. Seemed like he knew her, but I didn't even get to ask before he was leaving with Torgal."
"Did he take a weapon, at least?" Jote asked. "There's so much unrest right now, and people will be hunting for Cid."
"I think he took a knife with him, but nothing else," Kihel said.
"Is there anything you can tell us about their conversation?" Joshua pressed.
"I only caught a name – 'Honza,' I think?" Kihel responded. The name meant nothing to Joshua.
Clive's departure from Kihel's house could not have come at a worse time. Joshua had led Jote there with the intention of informing Clive that a party from the Hideaway had come searching for all of them – and that Jill was among them – only to find that Clive had left moments before on some quest with Torgal following behind.
At least his brother had Torgal, Joshua considered, but without Clive's magic and without his typical style of weapon, he would be at a disadvantage in any serious confrontation. Not to mention that Torgal could hardly cast magics close to Clive without catching the man in whatever area the magic would affect. Clive had stripped himself of his godlike abilities when he rid the world of crystals and the abilities of Bearers, and now he was a man; well-trained and exceptionally competent with a blade, but a man nonetheless. As furious as Joshua was that Clive had failed in the one task assigned him – to stay hidden in the house – anger was unproductive, and focus was needed.
"We must search for him," Joshua declared, and Jote nodded in agreement at his side, "We shall split up and—"
The curtain covering the front entrance was flung aside and in stormed Jill Warrick. The woman was nigh frantic and casting her gaze about. When she alighted upon Joshua, she smiled widely and dashed towards him, her boots thudding on the wood floor.
"Joshua!" Jill cried in relief and swept her friend up in her arms. "You're alright!"
Jill hugged him so tightly Joshua was certain that he felt part of his spine crack with the force of it - she very nearly lifted him from the ground.
Over Jill's shoulder, Joshua spied Dion, Terence, and Gav stumble through the front entrance. All three were red-faced and breathing heavily from exertion.
Glad though Joshua was to see his friend once more, there were unfortunately matters of higher precedence.
"I am," Joshua affirmed as he pulled back from the embrace. He looked at Jill, who appeared exhausted already from grief or the pains of travel, and said urgently, "I'm sorry, but our proper reunion must wait until later – Clive is missing."
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The men moved forward. Silver glinted in the light – blades.
Torgal backed up with Clive behind him, snarling as loudly as he could to warn the men of his power. The men moved forward. Lightning crackled between Torgal's teeth and under his feet.
There were too many of them for Torgal to kill on his own. They were too close, and Torgal was too close to Clive to cast. Torgal would not leave Clive unguarded.
The men moved forward.