The chilly morning breeze tousled Zeiken's hair as he donned a weathered leather jacket, a shield against the lingering dawn chill. Stepping onto the ship's deck, he swiftly maneuvered to the dock, his practiced hands securing the vessel to the pier. Despite their nighttime arrival at Perch Bay, the docking procedure was deferred until the first rays of daylight for safety and visibility.
The Perch Bay, and its main port, a bustling trading town, sat amid a landscape teeming with quaint fishing villages. Contrary to its name, renowned for fishing, whispers circulated of its clandestine identity—its reputation as the kingdom of smugglers and pirates. The area's geographical features, with myriad small islands, concealed coves, and rocky caves, lent themselves as havens for illicit activities. Amidst this clandestine backdrop, the region's allure also attracted animal traders, providing ample shelter and a strategic layover between distant exotic lands and the bustling hub of the Middle East.
"I'm ready," the boy called out to Rongar on deck, prompting them to prepare the ramp for the ship's descent.
Sinbad had already departed with Marina in the lifeboat much earlier, heading towards a nearby beach. He had left clear instructions for the crew to dock the ship at the port.
Observing their surroundings, Rongar joined Zeiken on the pier and subtly indicated to him with a nod that they were being observed by the onlookers stationed in the harbor. Sensing the weight of scrutiny, Zeiken could not shake off the foreboding feeling lingering in the air. "Yes, we are unlikely to receive a warm welcome," he commented. "I hope Sinbad returns soon."
Eyeing the secluded beach where Sinbad had taken Marina, he turned to Rongar, "Do you perhaps know why they went to that beach there?"
Rongar responded by gesturing with his hands, a series of fluid motions resembling a dance.
"A dance lesson?" Zeiken ventured a guess, trying to decode the cryptic message conveyed through Rongar's expressive gestures.
Rongar affirmed the guess with a nod.
OoO
Marina's bare feet took a step backwards, leaving footprints on the seaside sand.
"Left foot," said Sinbad.
Marina stepped onto her left foot.
Creak
"Balance on your feet," again instructed her Sinbad.
Creak
"Concentrate!" another command from the captain.
"I am concentrating!" Marina replied.
At the same moment she fell on the sand.
"Well, you're not. You're dead again" Her father commented, aiming a wooden practice sword at her chest.
He gave her a hand to help her up. Marina accepted the help, got up and shook off the sand. She dusted off her palms and looked at her father with determination. "Again!" she insisted.
Sinbad nodded, impressed by her persistence. "Alright"
Marina took a deep breath, focusing on her stance and movements. As they resumed their practice, she tried to incorporate her father's advice, moving more agilely and countering his moves with increased precision but he was still one step faster.
The sound of their wooden swords was occasionally echoing against the ocean waves.
"Balance on your feet," Sinbad repeated his remark, seeing that his daughter was again not controlling her movements. "You move clumsily like your mother." He added with a smirk, intentionally wanting to arouse her anger and distract her.
Marina's eyes almost lit up with fire at this comment. Frustrated, she struggled with uncoordinated movements. After a while, the girl found herself back on the sand.
"Temper, temper, temper," Sinbad smiled at his daughter, who was defeated and lying on the sand. However, she, with her face still offended, threw the sand at him. He skillfully dodged it.
Seeing her disappointment, he sat down next to her. "Anger is a very bad advisor. You can't let it control you." He said in a more encouraging tone. Looking straight out to sea, he quietly added "I realized it late myself…"
Marina observed him carefully for a moment.
"But I, of course, always had faster movements." Only now did their gazes meet again when he turned around with the face of a cat that just ate a canary.
The girl wanted to even comment something in disbelief, but in the end, she laughed lightly along with him. Her father put his arm around her, putting a lock of brown hair cascading over her shoulders behind her ear.
"Maybe I would do better with a real sword," Marina finally said with a greedy smile.
"We've already talked about this." He replied softly, leaning his head down to speak against her forehead. "This is not a toy."
She knew perfectly well that it was not a toy. Having grown up among sailors and warriors, she knew this very well. "You talk like mom."
Sinbad could not hold back a small smile, "Well, she's right sometimes."
"Do you think she's right this time, too?" Her eyes locked with his as the girl asked the question sadly. They both knew very well that she was no longer asking about the sword.
"I want to believe that she is," he replied, looking deeply into her blue eyes, "although I worry about her as much as you do..." Sinbad tightened his embrace. "But we are a family and if she needs something from us here then we have to do our best not to let her down."
The distant cry of seagulls echoed in the background, a familiar soundtrack to their conversations by the shore. Marina nodded, her gaze fixed on the horizon where the sun was beginning to rise, casting a golden glow over the water. "We will," she replied softly. "Let's start by joining the rest of the crew."
Sinbad gently disentangled himself from the embrace and stood up. "Let's start with that." He extended a hand to Marina, who accepted it. Together, they brushed the sand off their clothes and started walking towards the port, their steps synchronized in silent solidarity.
OoO
As the tension thickened on the harbor dock, Firouz and Zeiken found themselves surrounded by a group of individuals whose unfriendly demeanor was evident from the scowls etched on their faces. Despite their polite attempts at explanation, the Nomad crew's efforts were met with suspicion and distrust.
Just as the situation seemed to escalate, Sinbad emerged from behind Zeiken, his presence commanding attention. With a protective hand resting on Zeiken's shoulder and the other firmly clasping Marina's hand, Sinbad's authoritative voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"Any problem?" he asked, his gaze piercing through the hostile crowd.
Among the assembled group, Sinbad's keen eyes recognized the faces of many smugglers and pirates, including one in particular whose presence sent a chill down his spine.
"Sinbad, aren't you in the wrong port?" the familiar figure sneered, his voice dripping with contempt.
"I don't think so," Sinbad replied calmly, his steely resolve unwavering as he stood his ground.
As tension simmered on the port dock, a group of stern-looking guards emerged, led by none other than Governor Kalel himself. Draped in opulent robes that spoke of his authority, Kalel raised his hands in a gesture of peace, aiming to diffuse the escalating situation.
"These are my guests," Kalel announced firmly, his voice carrying across the port. Sensing the tension in the air, he quickly added, "After all, are we not gathered here for the perch festival?"
As his words sank in, the crowd began to murmur amongst themselves, the hostility ebbing away. Kalel's next proclamation brought a collective sigh of relief. "For the duration of this festival, I have graciously reduced all port fees," he declared, his tone magnanimous as he surveyed the gathered crowd.
The tension in the air gradually dissipated, leaving only Kalel and Sinbad's crew standing on the dock. The pirate whom Sinbad had recognized earlier exchanged a lingering glance with him, hinting that their encounter was far from over.
Kalel approached Sinbad with a wry smile. "Old friends?" he inquired.
"Something like that," Sinbad replied with a chuckle, reciprocating the smile as they embraced in a friendly hug.
"How is it that every time I want to visit you, I get into some kind of trouble?" Sinbad quipped, breaking the embrace.
"I didn't expect you to be here," Kalel admitted, offering greetings to Firouz and Rongar.
"You sent me an invitation yourself," The captain reminded him, raising an eyebrow.
"But I never thought you would accept it," Kalel confessed, shaking his head in disbelief.
Sinbad gestured toward his daughter, who stood beside him. "Do you remember my Marina?" he asked, a touch of pride in his voice.
Kalel's smile widened at the sight of the young woman. "She has grown a bit since I last saw her," he remarked, nodding in acknowledgment.
"And this is Zeiken" Sinbad then introduced Zeiken, placing a hand on each child's shoulders. "Let's just say I took the kids to the perch festival," he explained with a grin.
Kalel immediately understood the hidden message. He asked cheerfully, "Maybe the youth would like to see the town? The market is already open and they will be able to buy a great breakfast?"
Sinbad raised an eyebrow "They will be safe?" Referring to the welcoming committee at the port.
"Of course, of course," Kalel beamed and motioned for one of his men to come forward. "Basil will escort them," he assured, nodding reassuringly at the young red-haired boy who approached them. Despite wearing armor, Basil appeared rather frail.
Kalel's offer was met with even more cautious acceptance from Sinbad, who glanced at Marina and Zeiken for their approval. They both nodded in agreement.
"Okay," Sinbad finally agreed, albeit with a hint of skepticism.
Kalel howled and counted out a few coins and gave them to Basil, "Here you have if our guests would like to eat," he said.
Sinbad also reached into his pocket and nodded at Zeiken. Knowing Kalel's avarice, he also counted out a few coins, then taking advantage of the moment very discreetly handed Zeiken also a knife, accompanied by a meaningful look. The boy understood the unspoken message and discreetly concealed the gift under his jacket.
"You are avoiding any trouble." Sinbad instructed the children. "You don't talk to suspicious types."
Addressing Marina, he continued, "If something were to happen, you know what the signal is."
"You really have nothing to worry about"
The children nodded in understanding as Kalel reiterated his assurance of their safety. With a final nod of acknowledgment, Sinbad watched as Basil led Marina and Zeiken towards the market.
"Is the boy a found illegitimate child or are you breeding a future son-in-law?" Kalel asked and was the only one to laugh at his own joke.
Sinbad rolled his eyes "This is Aiden's son. For some time now, our foster."
Kalel, noticing the seriousness in Sinbad's expression, quickly changed the subject. "I guess you have important matters to discuss. Why don't we continue this conversation at my place?" He gestured toward his residence, inviting Sinbad and his crew to follow him, accompanied by his men.
The captain nodded in agreement, "Lead the way."
With that, they set off toward Kalel's residence.
OoO
As they strolled through the bustling town square, Zeiken lagged a little behind, observing Basil's attempts to entertain Marina with each passing stall. The square was a vibrant hub of activity, with merchants hawking their wares amidst the colorful array of stalls. Yet amidst the lively atmosphere, Marina's mood was notably subdued.
Her eyes lingered on the caged animals, their captivity evident in their forlorn gazes. The sight of hides, furs, and tusks further weighed on her spirits. Basil, sensing her melancholy, attempted to engage her in conversation. "When you come from Baghdad, not many places can impress you, I suppose…" he remarked with a hint of jest.
Marina's response was measured yet firm. "And I believe that every place possesses its own unique charm that can leave an impression," she replied, her gaze fixed on a stall showcasing sealskin, "This is what doesn't impress me…"
"Some cultures have rather... unconventional and barbarian practices," Basil remarked, attempting to sound worldly and to impress her.
Zeiken, however, offered a different perspective. "And I think that we shouldn't judge on the traditions of other cultures," he interjected thoughtfully. "We can't fully understand their history or the hardships they may have suffered before"
Marina regarded him with newfound respect. This actually impressed her.
"These are the stalls of the barbarians from the north," Basil said as they walked closer to the next stall selling furs, wolf skins. Zeiken giggled quietly at Basil's attempts to impress Marina, which achieved the exact opposite result.
Marina's expression remained impassive as she surveyed the stall, her eyes lingering on the array of wolf skins and furs.
The young man at the booth attempted to engage her with a sales pitch. "Perhaps the lady would like to purchase a wolf rug?" he suggested, his tone slick with salesmanship.
His companion, conversing in Gaelic, added a sarcastic remark. "A lady of her stature would surely prefer the finest silks."
"We could throw in some hare to complement those expensive fabrics," the companion quipped, a smirk playing on his lips.
Marina, maintaining her composure, glanced at the young men with a steely gaze. "I have no need for rugs or silks," she replied coolly with perfect Celtic. "Nor do I see any value in adorning myself with the skins of creatures who deserve to roam freely in the wild."
Basil looked at Zeiken with a dumbfounded look on his face, and asked, "She speaks barbarian?"
"Gaelic," Zeiken corrected him. "Yes, she speaks."
The two vendors at the booths were boiling with anger, and Marina added, "I'm not sure Basil isn't right. Celts live in harmony with nature. Murdering animals for profit is barbaric." Which enraged them even more.
Three other teenagers approached the group. "Zeiky, Zeiky, Zeiky," chuckled one of them ironically in Zeiken's direction. "What a meeting!"
Zeiken went all the way pale. Meeting these three was the last thing in the world he would want right now.
"Dale," the booth boy greeted them. "Do you know them and the snouted lady?"
"Zeiken is an old friend of ours," replied Dale again ironically. "Last time we didn't have a chance to finish our conversation in Basra," he added with a sinister smile. "How fortunate that you are alone today and the twins won't help you."
"Either you are blind or stupid because he is not alone." The tension in the air crackled as Marina's firm voice echoed across the bustling market square.
Dale, a smirk playing on his lips, exchanged glances with his cronies. "Well, well, well, seems like our little Zeiky has found himself some fancy company," he sneered, gesturing toward Marina with a dismissive wave.
The other teenagers snickered, their eyes gleaming with mischief. "Looks like our plans just got more interesting," one of them remarked, shooting Zeiken a challenging glance.
Basil, who had been watching the exchange with growing concern, stepped forward tentatively. "Perhaps we should all calm down and resolve this peacefully," he suggested, his voice tinged with unease.
But Dale had no intention of backing down. "You owe us, Zeiky," he insisted, taking a step closer to Zeiken.
Zeiken stood his ground, his eyes blazing with defiance. "I don't owe you anything," he declared, his voice ringing out clear and strong amidst the chaos of the market.
As Dale walked closer to Zeiken, who instinctively pawed at Marina, his other two colleagues surrounded Basil. With a menacing grin, Dale pushed Zeiken but Marina, quick on her feet, retaliated with a burst of flame magic from her fingers. The sudden heat steamed Dale's feet, causing him to lose his balance and crash into a nearby fur stall, creating chaos as he knocked over the sellers.
Curses flew through the air as the startled vendors tried to regain control of their wares. "That little witch!" they muttered under their breath.
"Get them!" shouted an enraged Dale, scrambling to his feet. But before Basil could comprehend the situation, Marina took swift action. With a practiced hand, she unsheathed Basil's sword and hurled it to Zeiken, knowing he was better skilled to handle it.
With precision and speed, Zeiken swiftly dispatched Dale's companions with the sword and together with Marina seized the opportunity to make their escape.
They darted through the bustling market with their hearts pounded with adrenaline-fueled urgency. Dale, his companions, and the furious fur boy were hot on their heels, their shouts echoing through the narrow streets.
Dodging and weaving through the throngs of people, Zeiken and Marina knocked over passing stalls, sending fruits and trinkets scattering across the ground. Basil, determined to keep up with the group, trailed closely behind, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
Marina, feeling the heat of the chase behind her, focused her energy, trying to form a fireball in her hands. Finally, with a surge of determination, she succeeded. With a swift motion, she hurled it high into the air, the flames illuminating the sky.
"You missed," Zeiken called out to her, his voice tinged with concern as he glanced back at their pursuers. He expected her to unleash the fireball on the group chasing them, hoping to slow them down.
But Marina's response was resolute as she continued to run forward, her eyes fixed on their path ahead. "I didn't!"
OoO
Sinbad, Rongar, and Firouz sat at an outdoor table of a quaint tavern in the town, following Kalel.
"I think you are in the right place," Kalel remarked. "Since this crisis, the animal traders are doing great in business."
Sinbad listened intently, hoping for any clue that could lead them closer to solving Maeve's investigation.
"Apparently they have a generous sponsor," Kalel added, his voice tinged with intrigue. The pieces of the puzzle were slowly falling into place.
"Do you know who it is?" Firouz inquired.
"No, and I don't want to know," Kalel replied firmly, taking a sip of his beer. "I have a neat deal here. I don't interfere in their business, and they... tolerate me."
Sinbad let out a heavy sigh.
"You can take a discreet look around," Kalel suggested, his eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. "Since you're here to enjoy the festival."
"That's exactly what I intend to do." Sinbad replied, also taking a sip of beer.
At the same moment, a fiery sign flashed in the sky.
"Was it..." Firouz wanted to Ask but did not even have time to finish to know the answer. Sinbad was already running in that direction knocking over the bench he was sitting on "...a fireball?"