Colan II

Colan couldn't open his eyes. It all hurt too much. He'd felt like this before once, when he had snuck some of his father's sweet wine while on a ship from New Ghis. He had been hung over for a full day, and his father had not made it easier by forcing him to walk the deck of that junk with him to "walk off" the effects of the drink. He had almost wished to push his father into the sea as a form of revenge, but he'd thought better of it when he realized that his father was almost always keeping a close enough eye on him, and almost certainly would have tossed Colan himself before he could lay his hands on his father.

Finally, he forced his eyes open, and tried to look around. It was strange, below him was wood, and above him was dark and light dancing. Whatever he had drunk was still making him sick, as he felt himself move back and forth, like he was on a ship. Maybe he had wandered outside, which would explain why the stone roof was no longer over his head.

"Hey," a voice from outside his vision said, though it was as though he was listening to a voice while his ears were filled with water, "I think the boy's woken up."

'That's not Da,' Colan would never not know the sound of his father's voice. For a second, he remembered they had been traveling with another man. Could it be the head of the caravan they had been hired to protect.

'No wait, we left the caravan with the red man…Emiya,' he remembered the tall tanned man in his long red coat. He then remembered the conversation they had had in their rooms earlier in the day, 'That's not Emiya either.'

Colan tried to move himself, but for some reason his arms remained strained. He couldn't lift them up, and they clung to his side. He began to twist and turn for a few seconds, but he still couldn't seem to regain full motion of his body. He tried to twist his head, but for some reason, his neck was so stiff that he didn't think he couldn't look to his side. He tried further and further to twist, but it was like he wasn't in full control of his body.

"I'll go down and tell Lord Asyrn," a different voice said.

'...'

"No."

Colan knew Asyrn. It was the name that his father would at times curse in his sleep, night terrors causing him to shake and scream. He had never asked about why that name caused such terror in his father's heart, but he knew it could not be good. He struggled, and as his arms tried to move, he recognized the feeling of twisted twine against his arms. He was tied up in rope.

"Shit," he said to himself, suddenly falling over. He had, apparently without realizing it, been laying in a sitting position against some kind of wall, and had just now fallen onto the floor. He let out a groan as he felt the splintery touch of the planks beneath his face. He now knew he was definitely not in the rooms he had been before.

His eyes were finally beginning to adjust to being open again, and he then gained confirmation that he was no longer safe in stone rooms. Rather, he could see he was surrounded on all sides by wood, and that this wood was rocking beneath an open night sky. The stars above him were more slashing lines than specific dots, as his eyes were still taking time to adjust to whatever had happened to him. He tried to roll himself back up to a sitting position, when he felt a gruff hand grab him by the shoulder, lift him up, and shove him back against the wall. His head bounced slightly against the wood wall, and a breath escaped her mouth.

He saw the form of a large man hold him up. A second later, he was let go, and left to lay against the wall. He heard the man begin to walk away. Colan let out a small hiss of pain, and he wanted to put his hand back to rub his head, but he couldn't. He could see the brown rope around his arms, keeping him held in place.

"Colan."

Finally, Colan stopped. He couldn't move his head, but he could shift his eyes to the left, and saw his father's legs set against the wall. He looked, and like him, he could see that his father was tied up in a large amount of rope, both around his arms and his legs, just like Colan himself. He couldn't see his father's face, but for some reason, there didn't seem to have any panic in his voice. THere had been times when his father had been afraid, but for some reason, this didn't seem to be the case.

"Stop struggling," Colan's father continued, his voice maintaining the measure that he'd first heard. Colan stopped, and tried to take in Cu's words, "You can't break these chords without a blade. Stop struggling, or else they might try and hurt you more to make sure you don't keep struggling."

Colan couldn't nod, the position he was in held him against the wooden wall kept him from moving his head, but he stopped struggling like his father had instructed. His father had known how to deal with every situation that they had faced before, so he would have to trust that stopping was the best he could do. For a few minutes, the two remained still, all the while Colan tried to observe his surroundings.

The ship itself was probably middle sized, though well put together. The wood was fine, and the rope appeared fresh and stable. Some of the ships he and his father had been on had worn down sails and rigging, or clear signs of wear caused by a long service at sea. Here though, the ship was either new, or so well maintained that it might as well have been new. There were also doors on the other side of the ship from them, from what Colan could guess was the bow of the ship, with a brass knob, alongside it a stairway that climbed to a higher deck. Colan could guess that he was against the wall that lead to another higher deck behind him as well. There was no place for rowing, though if Colan had to guess, there was likely a lower deck where the oarsmen actually sat.

Looking at the few crewmen he could see, Colan could guess that those oarsmen were likely slaves. There were chains around a few of the men, though even more telling were the slight cog shaped tattoo on the sides of many of their faces. His father, for all that he hated slavery, had made a point of teaching what specific tattoos meant, because of the permanent marks that were placed on the poor souls who were filed through Volantis's slave markets. This ship was filled with slaves from Volantis, and slaves specifically trained to serve on ships.

The thought of being surrounded by so many slaves almost caused Colan to shiver. They had been taken by a very rich, very powerful man. And all of his father's warnings allowed him to guess exactly who that rich and powerful man might be.

On the opposite side of them, the door with the brass knob swung open. Out stepped a rather short man, with a black beard that was tufted with slight spots of gray. He was, as stated, short, probably only a head taller than Colan, and would only come up to the middle of Colan's father's chest. He wore a deep lavender robe, with a flopped violet hat hanging to the side of his head, revealing white hair that was in the process of balding. But most obviously, even more than his height, was the far too large codpiece that jutted out in an almost bawdy manner. Were he not tied up, Colan was almost sure he would have begun to laugh at the ridiculous outfit. However, with the rope around his body, he could do nothing but stare at the man known as Asyrn.

"It has been a long time," the man's voice cut through the cold sea air. It was low, but also learned, with each word chosen carefully. He walked up closer, two guardsmen, those without any mark of slavery and actual weapons and armor to signify their place as mercenaries. There were five directly around Colan's field of vision, though with a ship this large, there were more than likely around twenty in total. The man stopped a few yards away from Colan and his father, all and his stance seemed to be an attempt to keep some distance between himself and his prisoners, "Almost a decade, perhaps a few months off."

Colan's father didn't say anything. Colan still couldn't see his father's face, but he could imagine from all of their conversations the frown that was on it. This man certainly seemed to have been out of the image he had been given of his mother's master, perhaps with a few less pounds and a little less gray hair.

Colan looked back towards Asyrn, a slave master of Lys, who just stood there and stared at Colan's father. For a full moment, the only sound that could be heard was the lapping of waves against the hull of the ship.

Splash.

Asyrn's gaze remained steady on Colan's father.

Splosh.

And his father continued to remain quiet throughout the stare down.

"You are still so proud," the old man said, "You are here, in front of me. No weapons, no space, no freedom," he rubbed his left hands fingers together, "I have you in my hands now. I will be given my restitution."

"So you got fat," Colan finally heard his father say. And it took everything in his fortitude not to laugh at the look of indignation that shot across the slaver's face. He almost could see a similar look in a couple of the mercenaries behind Asyrn, though the coin likely caused that amusement to die before it was ever noticed by their employer. The fat man nearly rushed forward, but stopped before he could get much closer to Colan's tied up father. Instead, he kept a similar distance, but he began to pace back and forth, always keeping several feet between Cu and himself.

"You, you think me a fool," the older man pointed at the tied up man's face, a slight redness beginning to spread across the jowls of his cheeks, "you think that the time you have been out of my grasp has been only from your skill," he swept his hand widely into the air, his long purple robe following behind the arm itself, "No. No, you have only had this freedom because you were granted it by my mercy."

"Mercy huh?" Colan was almost sure his father had gestured down to the ropes surrounding him. And again, he was almost sure he saw a few of the guards almost laugh at the observation. Two in particular, up on the higher deck behind Asyrn let out audible chortles, which caused the rich man to swivel backwards and look up at them.

"Shut it!" he screamed, and the two burly men became quiet. They were the only two guards watching from that deck, from what Colan could see. There were around a half dozen other men with weapons around them on this deck, and like the men up top, they were focused on Colan and his father.

'So eight armed men,' Colan considered, knowing that he was likely several steps behind his father in evaluating the guard. With enough warning, that would have been a challenging but thoroughly manageable fight for his father. He had seen a battle where his father had managed to fight and kill ten men at once, and those had been in a disciplined unit of battle, not this rabble of hired thugs. But without Steelbite, and with the rope…

It would be harder than they were used to. Perhaps that was why Cu was attempting to goad the old slaver. Get him close to somehow take him hostage. These mercenaries were likely only going to follow this as long as they were expecting to get some coin. If the man paying them was in the way of their blades, Colan and his father might be able to find a way out of this.

Unfortunately, this had likely also been thought of by Asyrn, and he was trying to keep his distance. ALongside this caution were the ropes that held both their limbs in place. If they couldn't get their limbs free, then they couldn't even consider capturing their adversary. And as far as he could tell, there he possessed nothing, no knife or tool, that could free him from these knots. So, for the moment, Colan just had to sit there, the rope digging into his sides, as the slaver regained his composure, and stalked to a position just outside his father's range.

"Yes Mercy," the man's tongue slipped across his bottom lip as he looked down at his prisoners, the rage still simmering just beneath the surface, "Mercy that I have not had you gutted at the very moment I had you captured," he then smiled, and shifted his eyes backward, "Do you want to know how I did it? How, after all this time, I finally caught you, my wayward pup, and put my leash around your neck."

"Sure, why not?"

Asyrn continued smiling, either not noticing or not caring about the strange cadence of father's speech, probably from a certain prejudice against either Westerosi or mercenaries in general. He snapped his fingers, and then, the door opened behind him. Out stepped a man in Red, with a long coat flowing down to the back of the knees. Tan skin seemed to almost reflect the small amount of light the torches around the ship shone. And white hair seemed to stand on end.

'Emiya,' Colan thought for a second, and then he remembered the last few moments before his capture. The man had returned with the ingredients for dinner. He had been curt with father, though that did not seem unusual, and then, after arranging a good smelling dish, they had all eaten it together. After a few minutes of eating, however, Colan had gotten light headed, and had laid down on the coach he had been sitting at. And he guessed after that point, he must have fallen asleep.

"Impressive," Colan would have turned to look at his father if he could, a low whistle causing attention to return to him, "I mean, how much time did you even have with him to copy his features? It couldn't have been that long, and your face almost looks identical," Colan suddenly began to look more closely at the man standing in front of them, "Of course, you can tell there are some issues if you look closely, but you were smart, kept quiet, and mostly kept cooking."

"Thank you," it was a different voice that came out of Emiya now. It was almost the voice Colan would have imagined a corpse to speak in, just as the life had finally escaped its lips and the dried out muscle could voice its own thought, "It was difficult to know exactly what to prepare when I took the ingredients from your comrade, but I think my dish was adequate."

'A faceless man,' Colan recognized the strange assassins of Braavos. An order of former slaves turned into a murderous cult, they were some of the most skilled fighters in all of Essos, and they were famous for their ability to "steal" the faces of those they wished to disguise themselves as. That one was able to take Emiya's form after what was most likely a very minor encounter with the tanned man was incredibly impressive, no doubt about that. He remembered Da telling him he'd had to kill one previously, but Colan had been too young to remember that. But it made sense that one of these men was the one who had slipped past their defenses, and had been so key in capturing the two of them.

"Why are you just talking with him?" Asryn had turned back on the faceless man. Suddenly, the bronze skin of Emiya began to disappear, and in its place was a more pallid tone. The hair was far more wild, with a scraggly beard and matted hair, and there was a small smile on his face, as he looked directly at the slave master, "I didn't pay for you to converse with your target."

"No you paid me to capture them," the faceless man responded, not even looking back at Asryn, "But we Faceless Men do not usually get the chance to converse with our charges," because they are usually dead was left unsaid, but even Colan knew that was what was usually expected in a request, "It would be a missed opportunity to not take a chance to speak with this man, if only to gain better insight into what might have given it away."

"I paid twice the usual rate to the House for this capture, I will not have you ruin this with your needless nattering," the Faceless still refused to acknowledge the fat man, though he did not follow up with any more questions to Da, so it was likely he was allowing his employer to retake control of the conversation. The man then returned his attention to the Colan and his father, and let out a great sneer, "You should have known it would turn out this way."

"Really, I always imagined it was going to end with me cutting through you like a stuck pig."

The only sound on the ship was that of the waves.

Colan, for the first time, was able to just stare at his father. And for the life of him, Cu was just looking up at the slaver's face with the largest grin he'd ever seen. He had never seen his father this confident, not during any of the previous fights he'd seen him participate in. And unlike every other time he'd seen him smile in danger, there was no weapon in his hand. They were tied up, at the complete mercy of the man he'd just insulted.

Colan turned his attention back to the slaver, and he felt his stomach drop. The old man's face, fat as it was, was a shade of pink that in fact did resemble a pig. The man's eyes were almost popping out of his skull, and veins were bulging around the sides of his eyes. Colan noticed that blood was dripping down into the floor, as he had clenched his fists so tight he had broken the skin. The entire body of the man seemed to shake with a pure, undeniable fury.

Colan took the next few seconds to see what their other captors were thinking. The Faceless Man was staring blankly at Da, and his mouth was slightly held agape. The other guards on the main deck were somewhere between the Faceless Man's shock and the rage of their master. For one last look, Colan looked up at the deck above at the two last guards up there…

Only to see that the two guards on the upper deck were no longer at that post.

"I'm going to geld him," Asryn pulled out a short blade from his side. The blade was first straight out from the hilt, though halfway up curled like a small sickle, "I've been waiting for ten years," however, instead of moving towards Da, he looked over at Colan, and began to push himself forward, "I'm going to geld your son right now, and make you watch."

"Don't you dare," Colan could hear anger in his father's voice…but for some reason, there was no worry. It was more a warning than a threat. The man of Lys still slunk closer and closer to Colan, as though he was savoring the moment.

"You stole this from me," he said aloud, looking hungrily down at Colan, "The product of one of my finest bed slaves," he pointed the blade downward, in the direction of Colan's groin, and Colan began to try and think of a way to get out of the ropes. He felt his lower self begin to recoil, as though it knew the danger it was in, "There are many pillow houses that would love to have a handsome, young boy like this as an offering. It will be the beginning of the repayment," he then, for a second, stopped, and turned the blade back towards Colan's father, "I'll geld you two, and tie you to the mast. I'll make sure you live long enough to see your boy become a whore, and then, only then will I finally slit your throat."

"...Asryn," Cu said aloud, "I'm going to enjoy this."

Pop-Pop

Asryn stopped, and stared at Da the instant he heard those sounds, mouth agape. In a second, Colan turned his face to see his father, and was shocked. The ropes that had been around his upper body, previously around his upper biceps, were suddenly hanging loose around his wrists. Colan looked for the blade that he had used to cut himself loose, but then realized that the rope was still intact, and also that the sound he had heard had been a strange popping. Colan looked up further, and then felt his jaw come open.

Colan's father's arms were bent at an unnatural angle in front of his torso, as though they were no longer truly attached to his body. For a second, Colan wondered what had happened only to realize that his father had actually dislocated his arms from his shoulder blades. By his own command and with the mere control of his own body.

"Da?"

"Don't worry Colan," Da wheezed for a second, clear pain in the back of his voice as he twisted his body around. The loosened rope fell beneath his hands, as he seemed to be moving around his shoulders, "Just give me one second, and I'll have-gah," he stopped, and twisted some more, "Rrgh," he twisted again, "One second and I'll have my arms back in my shoulders again."

"Kill him you fool!" Asryn had fallen back, and pointed at the Faceless Man. For a second, the Faceless Man just stared down at Da in shock, but shook his head, and pulled out his own blade, and faced down the struggling man.

"You are fascinating, really," he made a move towards Colan's father, "The ability to disconnect ones joints like you have might prove useful," however, he raised his blade, "However, it is my duty to end your life. Valar -"

SHUNK

Colan's jaw would have dropped again were it not already hanging open. A long black blade was sticking through the faceless man's torso, from right beneath his left shoulder blade, and sticking out on his right side through the intestines. It took only a moment for Colan to recognize the blade, as it had been the one to end the legend of Steelbite not but a day or so ago.

"Emiya!" He shouted, and sure enough, the bronze man in the red coat was standing on one of the two staircases that connected the main deck with the upper one. He was diagonal to Colan, and there were three men between them, with three men on the other side of the ship closer to Colan, and then Asryn in the middle of the two groups, right in front of Colan and his father. Emiya, seeing Colan, lifted his hand up in a small wave at the struggling boy, before reaching it out. A second later, the black blade disappeared from the Faceless Man's body, and reappeared in Emiya's hand, joining the lighter blade in Emiya's two blade stance.

"-Morghulis."

For a second, Colan's eyes were dragged back to the man who had been about to strike down his father. Yet, despite the blood beginning to pour out from the man's belly, along with a few pink innards that seemed to have been sliced open from the thrown blade, there was a strange look in the dying man's eyes. Colan could almost swear to see a smile on his face before he finally fell to the deck, dead.

"How can you be so fucking stupid Dogbreath!" Emiya called out, marching down the stairs, the three men closest to him pulling out their weapons, though they were shaking as they stared at the apparent magic this strange shadow man had used. Emiya let the blade that he hadn't just impaled the Faceless Man rest on his shoulder, all the while glaring down at Colan's father, "You literally were expecting to force your shoulders back in on your own. The hell is wrong with you!?"

"The plan is great," Da yelled back, now slamming his back into the wall he was laying against, "I'm already free and if you just give me a-" he slammed his left side into the wall again.

CRCCCCKKKKK

Colan felt his shoulder rise in shock at the sound. And yet, he again felt his jaw drop as saw his father swing his left arm with full control.

"AHA!" Cu shouted in glee, wiggling the fingers he now had feeling again in front of his face, "I told you my plan is great," he then used that hand to grab the bicep of his still hanging right arm. He took a second to position the arm correctly, before pushing it upward into the shoulder again, and once again, Colan heard a-

CRACK

And then saw his father's smile extend even wider on his face. He twisted the fingers in his right hand, then raised up that right hand towards Emiya, and held all of his fingers but the middle one down while thrusting his tongue out.

'Da's…never acted like this before,' His father had been harsh, even at times cruel, but he never had seemed to be anything but in total control. The man just now pulling himself out of the ropes that were around his legs seemed like a wild bull, bucking its head and arms without a care for what it might smash. The confidence in his own strength exceeded everything his father had warned him of.

"Grab the boy," Colan suddenly again realized that he Asryn was still there, as were the three men on the left side of the boat, the opposite side of Emiya. Those three all looked over at the man from Lys, who pointed at Colan, "The boy you fools!"

Two of them were too dumbstruck by the crazed happenings that had occurred right in front of their faces, but the third, standing between the two others, nodded dumbly, pushing away the mercenary between him and Colan, and then held out his hand to try and take Colan as a hostage. His hand made for the rope that was around Colan's chest. Colan slid further up the wall, pulling himself a bit further back. The man growled, and then grabbed onto Colan's legs. Colan let out a small thrash that almost kicked his feet free, but the guard's free hand caught the rope. However, just as he was about to pull Colan up by his ankles, he stopped, and Colan saw a hand come up over the man's shoulder, and tap down with a free finger.

The man turned around backwards, only to suddenly be brought to his knees. The man's hands immediately came to his stomach, while out of his mouth a sudden burst of blood splashed through his lips. With the man now on the deck kneeling, Colan could see a woman standing with long black hair and a pristine white robe blowing in the sea breeze.

"Oh, Xuan," Cu suddenly held up his free hand, and the woman returned the gesture. Colan could see a large smile, one that almost seemed to reflect the light of the moon itself, reflecting along her face. Her features were more eastern than even those of the people of Qaarth, and he wondered if she was perhaps from Yi Ti. The woman then grabbed the man she had sent to the ground with her strike, and grabbed the back of his shirt. She then twisted around and hurled him towards the other two men who continued to stare dumbly at the event, and sent them slamming into the side railing of the ship, with one of them slipping over the side and falling into the water with a great splash.

"What are these things?" Colan heard a quaking in the Asryn's voice. He seemed to be slowly moving father and farther away from Colan and his father, and their rescuers.

"CU!" she returned her attention to Colan's father, and waved happily at him, "It is so good to see you are alive and wel-" and then her eyes were suddenly fixed on Colan.

She stopped, and blinked.

She turned her head back to Da.

Then back to Colan.

Then to Da again.

Then, her large eyes were focused on Colan. She slapped her face slightly, and pinched her cheek. She then continued to just stare at him.

"Cu…when did you run into your Lily form?"

"A what?" Colan said aloud, only to turn and look at his father, who was rubbing the area between his eyes, before suddenly, he reached his hand down, grabbed up the rope around Colan, and pulled it a bit. He twisted Colan to the side slightly, before stopping, and beginning to play with something, which Colan guessed was the rope that was tied around his upper body, "Da, whas a Li-"

"Something you don't have to worry about," and Da gave him the same answer he had been receiving a lot the past day or so. The rope around Colan's arms began to loosen, and quickly he was able to pull both his arms free. He rotated his arms to try and alleviate the stiffness in his back, and then watched as his father attempted to do the same thing with his legs, "This isn't a Lily form, Xuan, this is my son."

The woman continued to stare.

And then suddenly, her mouth opened into an even wider grin.

"CONGRATULATIONS!" just as Colan's legs became untied, he was suddenly constricted once again. This time however, it was between the surprisingly strong arms of the woman, who had somehow managed to pull up both Colan and his father into a strange embrace. While Cu was growling at it, Colan couldn't force out a sound. He had been pulled in such a way that his face had somehow arrived in a very soft place.

Not only was he in a position that anything he would say would be covered up, but the embarrassment was so great he didn't think he wasn't sure what he could say.

"It is always wonderful to meet new comrades. To have a son this healthy and hearty is truly a sign of the blessings of the Buddha," the woman, Xan, as his father had called her, began to shake the pair within her hug. Colan began to worry that he might die not from a crude surgery, but from the inability to take a breath.

What made it worse was that there was a part of him that was okay with that.

"Xuanzang," Emiya's voice carried loudly through the air, and so clearly that even with his ears partially covered, he heard the Bronze man without issue, "We can deal with this later. Right now, we have unfinished business."

"Oh yes," Xuanzang, as Colan guessed was this woman's name, which he supposed was the full version of his father's "Xuan", released her arms. As Colan's lungs cried out in joy from being able to begin to suck in air, other parts of him, parts he would forever be ashamed of, cursed Emiya for his treachery, "There is still a fight to be had," she then turned on her heels, and faced the two men who remained from where she had tossed them, and assumed a strange stance, with her right and left hand held in parallel to one another, and her knees bent as though ready to spring forward, "Shall we continue?"

The two men, still trying to catch their breath from the last moment of action, stared at the woman and her fighting stance. They then turned to look at one another, then down at their weapons, which Colan thought had almost seemed to have shrunk since the rescue attempt had begun. They then stared at one another again, and wordlessly, suddenly dived over the railing, into the sea.

The boat was once again silent, this time only punctuated by the mixing of the sounds of swimming men and the sounds of waves hitting the hull. Colan returned his attention to Xuanzang, whose eyes had somehow shrunk to pinpricks, and whose forehead had somehow become covered in large droplets of sweat. Taking a quick gaze, Colan could see similar droplets on both his father and Emiya, though there were less overall on their heads than on the woman.

And somehow, feeling the developing wetness on his forehead, he imagined he had developed a few droplets as well.

"So," Emiya said aloud, at the three remaining guards standing between him and Colan and the rest, "Do you all want to get out of here whil-"

SPLA-Spl-SPLASH.

Emiya seemed to blink as the three men who had been right in front of him all dove over their side of the railing into the ocean. Colan looked out, and saw they were at most a mile out from shore. If they were careful, all of these mercenaries would be able to swim back to Qaarth, and almost certainly they had considered they had a better chance in the water than facing the monsters that had somehow snuck aboard their junk. Emiya reached up to the back of his head, and rubbed it almost as though he was embarrassed.

"I kind of feel like a jerk about this," he said almost offhandedly, and though Colan was again not sure what that word meant, he felt like he mostly understood what Emiya had said.

"Well," Colan's father was standing up proudly, whatever worries that might have been on his mind long removed from his shoulder, "Seems like this is mostly wrapped up," his eyes then focused on Asryn, who seemed to shake, "Just one last thing I'm going to have to do."

"Wai-"

"Don't even try it," Da said flatly, stretching out his right hand in front of him, "After everything you put me through, I'm going to enjoy this," and then, the red spear, the one that Emiya had given his father so recently, appeared once again in his father's hand. And unlike before, there was no red sparks, no strange chant. Where once there had been nothing, now sat the crimson spear.

And despite knowing his father did not mean to use it on him, Colan still hated it. The beast was screaming for blood, promising to slice through whatever it was allowed to touch. And that beast's fangs were aimed directly at the Lysian slaver who was desperately trying to find some kind of escape from Colan's father.

"You took her from me," The hairs on Da's body began to stand on in, and red lighting sparks finally began to appear again, up and along the entirety of the spear. The shots of light splashed across the face of the slaver, who clung to the wood behind him, his fingers seeming to be reaching for some kind of defense. For a moment, it seemed like strange symbols cover Da's body, and then his entire face was covered in a red glow, so vibrant that his skin was the same color as his crimson eyes.

"I won't let you take anything else!"

And then he moved. It wasn't like he began running, no, one second, he was standing with the spear in his hand, and the next, he was a meter in front of Asryn, hanging in the air with his arm back poised to strike. The fat man didn't even react to the movement, his face stuck in the previous building terror.

"GAE BOLG!" the demonic spear came down, and struck the slaver in the chest.

For a moment, the world stopped. Colan could see the spear had pierced through the Lysian's left breast, and more than likely straight through his heart. He watched as his father walked back, and stared at the man. Almost on instinct, the wounded man reached up to grab the shaft of the spear. His arms, in reflex, tried to pull the red shaft out of his body, but it wouldn't budge.

CRICK

That state of existence lasted only a moment, however, as suddenly the man went stiff. His hands let go of the spear and stretched out wide, spread eagle. His body began to shake, and Colan began to see something puslate and move beneath the man's robes. The waves of unnatural movement then began to expand, and push out into the man's extremities. Finally, some blood burst from his hands, and Colan could see small red spikes sticking out from Asryn's fingertips. He then saw the shaking movement move up, the bulgins and contracting movement all over the fat of the neck. The slaver's cheeks suddenly expanded, and then from his mouth was a vomit of deep red thorns. Finally, Colan saw the man's eyes, overflowing in tears, burst in a spray of blood, as two spikes shot through the sockets of the man.

The body of the slaver thus slumped there against the wall, the mix of the stiffness of death and the sharp thorns of the weapon holding him against the wall. Colan's father stood there before the body for a moment, before snorting out a quick breath from his nostrils. He then grabbed the shaft of the spear, and twirled it over his head. Somehow, the thorns sticking out from the body retreated almost immediately, and the corpse that had once been Asryn flew through the air, over the railing, and splashed into the waters beneath the ship.

"I'm never going to get used to that," Colan heard a distinctly adult male voice say, but he could not tell if it was his father or Emiya. For some reason, it was hard to tell a lot of things at the moment. He then, felt some cloth on his face, and turned to see the woman, Xuansang, rubbing the long sleeve of her robe along his face.

"I understand how you feel," her voice was so calm, like a constant clinging of some brass instrument, one beat spaced out perfectly before and after another, "I've only seen it done once, and that was to something less…human," her smile was still there, but it was no longer one of brightly lit teeth, but more gentle.

"I…why?" Colan looked down at the sleeve, and saw a green and yellow stain on the pure white robe. He then looked beneath his feet, and saw a puddle of something the same color laying splashing up against his toes.

"It happens," once again, he felt himself pulled into a hug, but unlike before, this felt more like a warm blanket. She only placed it on one of his shoulders, and she pulled him into her side, "Let's get you cleaned up…"

"Colan," he heard a male voice announce again.

"Colan," Xuanzang said. Colan nodded, and slowly followed the woman towards the side of the boat. Whatever he did, he did not look back two where the two remaining men on the ship were standing. Though…he had to wonder…

'Are they even human?'

"There," Xuanzang was smiling brightly once again, "I think we got you clean."

Colan gave a nod. It had been a few minutes to find some fresh water, but they had found a fresh jar, and the strange woman had been able to rip the top off. She had then cupped some of the water into one hand, and spread it around Colan's face, and allowed some of it to splash along his toes, getting rid of any of the stuff that had dried there in the moments since he had vomited. Luckily, it had been so long since he had eaten that it had mostly been stomach juices rather than something more messy, but it was good to have it away. Colan stared at the strange colors over the once white robe sleeves, and then asked.

"What about your robe Lady Xuan," he wasn't sure if he could fully pronounce her name, but adding lady should make it formal enough. The soman stopped for a second, and then somehow her smile grew even larger.

"What a polite young man you are," she laughed, before looking down at her robe. She then shrugged, and in a swift motion, before Colan could look away, the robe was off. Colan felt a heat return to his face, and he tried to look away.

Luckily she was still mostly covered. Both her chest and groin were covered in long wrapped bandages that twirled around her. They appeared to be a light cloth, but still they bound her chest and covered her groin and buttocks. While Colan still blushed, he felt a sweet relief he had not just dishonored this very kind woman in such a careless manner.

'If her chest is this large with binding, then how big are they rea-' Colan pushed down that thought, though once again he felt his body urge him to indulge in the thought more.

"This water should be more than enough to clean this old thing," she then pulled up another cupped hand of water, and laid it on the stain. Then, as the water seeped into the sleeve, she raised her free hand, and made a strange hand sign, with two fingers pointed high into the sky, while her two smaller fingers curled downward. He then saw what appeared to be a white light suddenly shine all around her, and then saw the water in the robe begin to flow through the fabric, dragging along the stain of the vomit until it splashed on the floor. The woman nodded, and then flipped the robe around and rested it on her shoulders.

"So, you're like them, aren't you?"

"I suppose you mean like your father and Emiya?" the smile had mostly faded, though the sides of her lips were still pointed upward. Colan nodded, and she let out a sigh, "I suppose by everything you have seen, yes, I am like them. Though I am of a different class, they and I would be called Heroic Spirits."

"Heroic?" Colan asked, looking for the first time back towards the rest of the ship. His father and Emiya were staring off at the city of Qarth on the other side of the ship, both still in conversation. But more to his attention was the blood that had pooled where the slaver had taken his last breath.

"Yes," Xuanzang, more firm, crouching downward to look him directly in his eyes, "Heroic," for all her forcefulness, Colan still felt a deep caring inside her deep plum eyes, "I have seen both of them fight tirelessly for the good of mankind. They have risked life and limb in countless battles to save innocent people. I would gladly put my life in their hands if need be."

"You don't seem like you would. You don't seem like you are the same at all."

"We…have arrived at the same location from different paths," she was not trying to hide secrets, but rather to find a way to explain something complex to him, "Your father and I were born into places and our histories are very different. Your father was a warrior of unparalleled strength, while I was a monk, with a mission of enlightenment. Yet still, by the Throne of Heroes, we were determined to be worthy of the title of hero."

"What about Emiya?" and for the first time, Colan could see an undeniable frown on her head for the first time.

"He and I are born closer in miles, but further in time," she said, "He does not like to speak of his legend, so I do not press him."

Colan looked down at the floorboards, "What of my father, do you know his legend?"

"The broad idea, yes," she answered, "But the details, the history, the losses and triumphs are things I myself am unaware of completely, it would probably be best for you to ask him yourself," she then looked at his face, and added, "I understand that seeing that death was horrifying, but I can feel it within your father's heart that he care nothing but the best for you. Do not let that memory taint a man who would gladly fight through hell itself to protect you."

"How do you know that?" Colan asked.

He wasn't sure if the man standing on the other side of the ship was his father anymore. Ever since Emiya had given him that demonic spear, it had been nothing but shock and terror for Colan regarding his father. The man no longer was the cautious but brave man, who always advised on finding every advantage you could. His father never would have allowed himself to be placed in a problem like tonight, but from everything he could see, Da had actually allowed it to happen, perhaps even faking being knocked out to try and get close to a man he had run from for Colan's whole life.

"Like I told you," she placed a hand on Colan's shoulder, "I fought alongside him for many years, and I've never seen him act this way before," she then stopped, and then added, "Not the shoulder blade thing, he's done things like that. But I've never seen him so protective of anyone in my life, not even master. And," she twisted her head, "I've never seen him keep looking back and checking on you every minute or so."

Colan took a chance to look back, and after a moment, he saw his father's head twist back, on to twist forward again upon realizing he had been caught. Colan snorted, both anger and laugh pushed out of him.

"How are you so good at recognizing this?" he finally asked, and Lady Xuan laughed.

"As I said, I am a legendary monk of the Buddha," he winked at him, "I have sought enlightenment and that journey has granted me greater control over my mind and soul," she then twisted her fingers for a second, "I believe honestly that was why I was able to remember who I was so long ago, while your father just had to be reminded so recently. My own internal legend mixed with my desire to seek knowledge led me to a mountaintop somewhere in Yi Ti, and there I finally found out who I truly am. Since then, I've spent the past eight years trying to find my way back, and now, I've found them," her smile brightened once more, and she placed her hand on his head, "And you of course."

Colan felt heat once again rise to his cheeks. He was quite thankful when the monk pulled her robe fully together, once again covering most of her flesh in a long flowing tunic. Xuanzang then motioned with her heads back towards Colan's father.

"I think he wants to talk to you," she said, "Please give him a chance."

Colan looked into the woman's eyes, before sighing and nodding. She smiled at him, and then turned around, and waved at the other two "Heroic Spirits". She placed her hand on Colan's back, and lead him towards his father and Emiya. The former looked almost embarrassed, and only when they had gotten closer did Colan realize that Da had a black eye. Emiya was clearly frustrated, but did seem to be looking on Colan with some kind of concern.

"I think Colan should speak with his father for a moment, don't you?" Xuanzang said aloud, to which Emiya nodded.

"Yes, that should give you and I time to discuss our next move," Emiya agreed. The two moved and were soon marching up one of the stairways to the upper deck. Colan looked at his father, who sat down against the wall, and then patted the deck beside him. Colan, slightly hesitant, joined his father, and placed his backside against the wall as well. For a few moments they just sat there, before Da finally spoke up

"I'm sorry about being so reckless," Colan's father just let the apology hang in the air for a moment, "And I'm sorry I didn't give you any warning. About what I thought was happening or what Gae Bolg does," the older man just placed his chin in his hand, "I owe it to you to keep you informed, and to make sure you don't get placed in unnecessary danger."

Colan stopped for a moment, and looked out over the deck. The ship now appeared peaceful, and though they would have the rest of the crew to deal with in the morning, it was likely that a ship full of slaves would be quite happy to see their master becoming food for fish. But, the thought of the strike, and the fear he had had while being tied up continued to gnaw at him. He then looked his father in his eye, before sighing.

"Why did you hate that man so much to kill him like that?"

…

"Colan," Da said aloud, fully capturing the boy's attention, "I never told you enough about your mother, and that's because I only ever knew her for a short while."

"I was lost about thirteen, maybe fourteen, years ago. I had been granted my freedom, the thing I had spent my entire waking life dreaming of," Cu let out a sigh, "But with that blessing of freedom, I was also cursed with an affliction of aimlessness. Many of the veterans of Robert's Rebellion were able to go home to their families, to their homes."

"But I foolishly thought the only place I had ever called home was really just a cage," Cu almost spat at that, "I was a fool. But that was the folly of a young man drunk on his own liberty. I jumped across the narrow sea, one port to another, drinking, fighting," he seemed to stop, as he considered what to say next, but then pushed forward, "fucking."

Colan felt something in his stomach sink. He'd heard his father use the word before, but always as a curse, not a description. He had described sex to him after he had walked on a pair of companions indulging in the act, but he had never actually used the words to mean the action.

"I came to Lys about a year into my travels," he said, "and after completing a minor victory over a rival gang, Asryn offered me a night with his most prized Courtesan."

"Was that when I w-"

"No, no," Cu shook his head, "We actually didn't do anything that first night," Colan could see a small blush on his father's face, "Though I desperately wanted to," he waved his hands out wide, "Your mother was gorgeous, right out of a fairy story. She had the Valyrian look, which was strange to me as a man from Westros, and I fought against the Targaryens," Colan knew that those were the dragon kings that had his father had fought in some of his most detailed stories, "Still, we spent the entire night talking, singing, playing Cyvasse," he looked down at Colan, "I need to show you how to play, I'd think you like it."

"So, you didn't sleep together?"

"No, not that night," Da shook his head, "I came back the next night, though, and then the next," he pointed out to the water, "That fat lard and I came to an agreement, unspoken mostly, that I would more or less do his dirty work, and your mother would spend every night with me. He wasn't that high up in Lys's society, but I helped him climb high," he looked up into the stars, "I roughed up clients who weren't paying, killed a few higher ranked rivals. We had quite the partnership. He got his best fighter, and I got to be with Serasha."

Serasha. That was his mother's name. It was strange, but Colan supposed it fit with the idea of a pillow house, soft but exotic.

"But what happened?"

"Well," Da said, "Like I said, I did eventually begin to sleep with Serasha, and after a few months, we knew someone new was coming along," he looked down at Colan with a knowing smile, "She was the happiest I'd ever seen her when she knew you were in her belly."

"But," Colan could tell there had been a change in the tone, "We knew that she was still a slave, and that if she had you, you would be a slave too," Colan pointed out onto the sea, "so, I made a deal with Asryn. At that time, there was a pirate that had been raiding customers, and drying up a bit of external traffic. It was considered a big ruckus in Lys, so several high families offered whoever could bring him a handsome reward. I offered to get Asryn that reward and the fame for being in charge of the expedition if he would free your mother from slavery. He took the deal, and I set off."

"The pirate was mostly a problem for how long it took me to hunt him down and find him," Colan looked at his father, "While he was nowhere nearly as powerful as the Crab King, he hid in those same tunnels. I spent weeks hunting through those caves, before I finally found him one day. Steelbite gutted him, and I returned to Lys with his head in my hand."

"But after I had handed Asryn the head, he told me that while I had been away, he had," he stopped, trying to contain himself for a moment, "Rented out Serasha. It had gone poorly, and her health left her," Colan could see gritted teeth, "I know he ultimately killed her. COuldn't take the deal, had to get everything he wanted out of it."

"But I was born," Colan spoke up.

"Yes," Da nodded, "So I asked to take you as part of our deal. But that fucking slaver said that our contract had been for Serasha, not you. He had seen a loss from the premature death of one of his assets, and since we had not specified anything to do with you, he said he had right of ownership over you, and the fucking merchants, the people who I had just helped by killing that pirate, agreed."

"Well, I didn't take that lying down," Colan could guess the rest of the story from here, but allowed his father to continue, "I went in, killed a bunch of his guards, and then grabbed you. I spent the next ten years on the run, trying to find a way back to the North, where we would be under the protection of your Uncle Ned," Eddard Stark, the man who his father loved the most in the whole world. Every time Da spoke about him, it was with an almost holy worship of the man.

"And then we met Emiya."

"About sums it up," Cu pushed himself upward, "I know that I really scared you, and that I shouldn't have allowed up to get captured for the chance at revenge. I hope you can find it in you to forgive me."

Colan stared up at his father. He looked in the older man's eyes, still crimson red, but now the appeared to be softer. Like the light and heat from his blood lust had somewhat gone into the wind, and would not be coming back. Colan stood to his feet as well, and then ran over to the taller man and hugged him around the waste. Colan quickly felt a pair of arms twist around his shoulders, and for a moment they stood their hugging.

'My Da loves me,' Colan repeated in his head, 'No matter how much he changes, he's still me Da, and he will always love me.'

Finally, Colan let his arms fall off his father, and his father's arms fell to his own side as well. The stood there for a minute, looking up into the starry sky, and letting the breeze pass by them as they felt the ship beneath them bounce within the waves.

"Let's go see what Emiya and Xuan are doing," Cu finally said, pulling the boy along with him towards the stairway. That caused something to click in Colan's mind, and he then looked up at his father's face.

"Why did Emiya punch you in the face?" he finally asked, "Was he really that mad about your plan?"

"Nah," his father dismissed, "He ultimately was fine with the plan, he usually just likes to act more adult than he really is."

"Then why did he punch you?"

"Ah, well," Cu rubbed the back of his head, "It ultimately was during our conversation about how I figured out that he had been replaced by a Faceless man in our rooms earlier."

Colan thought back to the room. Emiya had reemerged with the bags, and then the two had traded insults for a moment, before the imposter had gone to prepare the food. They then ate the rabbit dish, and then it had only taken a bit for Colan to fall asleep from the weird potion that had been given in the dinner. Ultimately, it reflected everything he had known about his father's relationship with Emiya.

"He thought it had something to do with the food," Da shook his head, "But really it was a lot easier when the Faceless man didn't react to a specific insult that only Emiya would react to. When he said nothing about it, I immediately knew that we had a spy in our rooms."

"What did you say?"

"Oh, that's easy," Da laughed, rubbing his bruised eye as they walked up the stairway, "I said, "How are you doing Shirou?""