Growing Tides

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A Shot of the Journal of Skipper Nejrat

Tenth Glacia 1E91Y

I didn’t expect excitement so soon after the tragedy that was on that isle, but it is as they say: When it rains, it pours. The isle was but a distant memory, a painful, distant memory, when the additions of the Scylla started to act strange. I thought it was simply Baro being paranoid at night that we ended up on the water come morning, but, tonight, they simply stopped.

I was in the middle of a conversation with Baro –a rarity these days. The nights were cold, colder than anyone had any right to be out in, but that never stopped us on the Leviathan. In fact, his absence if not willful refusal to converse made me pine for those days, even if it was with Squall.

Alas, it seems we were forever cursed not to. The one time we actually had a moment, a moment to talk and discuss, the engines went silent. I had remarked on how quiet it had gotten that night when the ship fell from the sky. Luckily, we were still over water, but that didn’t soothe my headache any.


Twelth Cryos 1E92Y

The engines, no matter what we tried, no matter how many buttons or levers we pressed, would not alight. During the time, we had been treading water, aimless, too focused on those engines. However, it seems we finally have to admit defeat: we could not get them fixed.

Supplies were already low before all of this, and now we had morale to go with it... We decided that our only course of action was to return to Carapai.


Sixteenth Cryos 1E92Y

Good news, at least: We were no longer considered dead. The arbiters that had “volunteered” their services had granted us a boon and vouched for our lack of shaking the mortal coil to the Council –though, from my understanding, they, too, were believed dead. Maybe it was in their own showing of death being incredibly exaggerated that it passed to us by proxy, so we were once more accounted among the living and able to trade for goods at their port.

However, even knowing that, Baro was not pleased. He sought out the Council after, demanding they aid in “repairing” our ship, and I assumed it didn’t go well given his demeanor when he returned. “Those old crustaceans are too locked in their softened shells to see the marvel that the Scylla was,” he said. Oh, he added more, but it always returned to that same sentiment. Really, I wasn’t surprised; those engines looked to be of Zephyrian make. They wouldn’t even know where to start let alone how to attune to them.

If anything, our best bet is to turn to the Itchyomen. Aside Natorei, they are the most in-tune with the arcane. Although I would prefer to seek out the little winged schemers, beggars cannot be choosers, so tomorrow I get to see my most favorite people in the world.


Twenty-second Cryos 1E92Y

At this rate, we would be better off finding Natorei.

It turns out my change in complexion has made me a prime suitor for the Itchyoman, and everyday that passed was another dance through the slums. One wrong word, one sign of color in my eyes, one wrong inflection or movement and the place could erupt in violence. It’s happened thrice, all of which were between lasses that had come to age and tried to court. Forcefully.

I went to Baro today, demanded that we would leave, explained my situation, and what did he say, instead? That I should settle down. “You should look beyond your prejudices and accept one who loves you.”

I... have never been so insulted! Does he not realize the specimens he is talking about? I would have smiled and joked with him, but the tone his bubbles took showed he was very much sincere. What happened to the Baro that would joke... and, the worst part? He got an actual idea from it!

He wants to use my natural charm to attract one of the more magically attuned on-board.


Wouldn’t you know it; it was a success. This time, when I went out, I tried to use my charm as best as I could. I showed interest in those fish, got to know them as I slowly pulled them back to the boat. By the time we made it to the port, there were only four left, the others left in bloody heaps along the way, tearing each other apart. However, none of them showed any potential in the arcane.

I stopped before the boarding plank... and decided to show a bit of boldness myself, some brazen, unapologetic insight that always lead to pain. However, this would be controlled pain, directed destruction: I stated that I found the arcane incredibly attractive, and that the very sight of it enthralled and enamored.

That was how I found our arcane fish-witch, and her name was Kera. I held out my hand to her, like a gentleman and the actor that I was, and lead her on-board to introduce to Baro, taking care to aid her over the burnt husks left in her wake. She was a bit singed herself but they paled to her prowess.

We could finally begin our journey... and, soon after, I could stop pretending to be interested in this Itchyoman.

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