Morning ca, at least that's what the chanical clock in the cabin claid. Outside, the impenetrable October night still reigned; only the cold wind whistled between the masts. We all stepped out onto the deck when lights flickered on the horizon.
Soon they erged from the darkness—Groutar's ships.
"Damn it!" Grimuar slamd his fist hard against the gunwale. "Their vessels are taller than ours... and it looks like they have cannons?"
He began to nervously pace the deck. It was obvious how hard it was for him to realize that Lant was starting to lose the arms race. "We're late... We're hopelessly late in developnt," he mumbled.
"Don't worry so much, Grimuar," I walked up to him, trying to look confident. "You have a Supre Archmage on board and... ."
I cut myself off. "A Supre Archmage and ?" It didn't sound very imposing. Alastia had a title recognized by the whole world. And who was I? Uncle Red? I didn't have a single official piece of paper.
"Listen, Grimuar," I turned sharply to the ambassador. "Do you happen to have a jester's costu on the ship?"
He froze.
"What? Well... actually, yes. One of the sailors is into theater. But why would you need..."
"Drag it here."
Ten minutes later, I was standing on the deck in a purple jester's outfit.
Alastia walked up to , looking
up and down. "Zen, what is this for? You look..."
"I heard that people are afraid of clowns."
Groutar's ships were approaching. Their massive hulls towered over us like black cliffs, and the muzzles of their cannons were already slowly turning in our direction.
"Grimuar," I turned to the ambassador. "Today, negotiations are being handled by the Ministry of Fun."
BOOM!
A warning shot flew sowhere in the distance, kicking up a pillar of spray. Grimuar imdiately ordered the sails to be drawn in so as not to provoke a battle, but I had other plans. I crouched, concentrating energy in my legs, and...
I pushed off so hard that our ship tilted dangerously, barely avoiding scooping water with the gunwale.
"WOO-HOO!"
With that shout, I flew over the abyss and landed softly on the deck of the Groutar vessel.
Dozens of sailors froze. Tension filled the air: they drew their muskets and sabers.
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"Hello, hello!" I started spinning in a jester's bow, the little bells on my hat jingling mockingly. "I am the ambassador from Mount Slick!"
"What the hell is going on here?!" A huge man, nearly two ters tall, stepped out from the crowd of sailors. His left eye flared with a toxic green light for a mont, and then went out. One guy lost his nerve and pulled the trigger.
BANG! BOOM!
A volley rang out from all sides. I straightened up, looking myself over. My clothes were full of holes again, and the outfit wasn't even mine! Sweet fear emanated from them. I dashed toward the captain, grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, and was ready to sink my teeth into his throat when...
Soone's steel grip pulled
back. A sharp jerk, and I was flying over their back straight onto the deck planks.
"ZENHALD, NO!" Alastia had used her signature hold again, squeezing my neck.
"Ack... I want... let ..." I wheezed, writhing.
"NO!" her fingers squeezed even tighter.
I went limp. The rage gradually receded, leaving only a mild annoyance—I wasn't allowed to fully enjoy their fear. Alastia stood up, fixing her hair, and swept the deck with her gaze.
"I am the Supre Archmage of Mount Slick. I am escorting the ambassador of Lant ho and I guarantee their safety."
At that mont, the captain's left eye blinked green again. I couldn't hold back and simply snapped my fingers.
POP!
His eye socket exploded.
"AAAAAAH!" The captain tumbled to the deck, clutching his face with his hands.
Alastia turned around and looked at
as if I had just eaten her favorite dessert without asking. I simply threw my hands up: like, it popped on its own.
The first mate stepped forward and ordered the n to lower their weapons. They sent a signal to their command and were now waiting for a response. While a lull settled over the deck, I walked up to the wounded captain, who was still glaring at
maliciously with his remaining eye. I intercepted his hand and began to slowly twist his finger.
"Listen, man... what did this contract cost you?" I asked quietly.
He flinched at those words.
"How do you..." he didn't finish, crying out in pain when I squeezed harder.
"What did the contract with the Demon cost you?"
He started screaming, swearing he wouldn't say anything. I sighed and let him go. That information wasn't too important anyway.
Alastia sat down next to
on the deck, amid the splinters and frightened sailors. She looked at the captain, who was still writhing in pain, pressing a hand to his empty eye socket.
"Zenhald..." she called quietly. "Why did you do that? Why did you blow up his eye?"
"He had a contract," I answered, feeling the thoughts in my head begin to scatter. "A contract with the Demon of Ti. That thing in his eye socket. I just severed the connection."
Alastia didn't answer. She only reached out and began to softly, barely touching, stroke my hair.
"Listen to , Zenhald," she repeated, and her voice was so calm and deep that the noise of the sea around us seed to quiet down. "Promise . Don't do anything. Just follow
and that's it. No violence, no explosions. Understood?"
She scratched
behind the ear so affectionately that I involuntarily squeezed my eyes shut.
"Yeah... okay. Sure," I mumbled.
An hour later, Groutar's first mate approached us. He tried to maintain an official deanor.
"We have received a response from command. We will now dock at the shore. Tomorrow, our King will arrive to conduct negotiations personally. Until then..." he hesitated, "we invite you to be our guests."
Guests? But then I felt the warm hand on my head again.
"It's all right," Alastia whispered. "We'll be guests. We'll stay with them for a day, rest, and then leave. Nothing terrible will happen."
I felt myself falling asleep.
"Alastia... I think I'm falling asleep," I exhaled, barely moving my tongue. "Will you carry ?"
She smiled—I felt it rather than saw it.
"Alright, Zen. Sleep."
She easily scooped
up in her arms, and the last thing I rember before completely falling into darkness was the steady beat of her heart.
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