“Never strike first.” - A policy shared between both Benelim and Maelim races.

  It took Leo and Avella several hours to get to the port. They were anxious the entire time. Leo just hoped that Petro was still there. He’d said that he was sailing to Raveno. Sailing down the river might be slower than their old steeds, but it was the next best thing. Leo didn’t know if the Benelim would agree to let them aboard even if he was there, but they had to take that chance.

  The port was bustling, with massive crowds, a sea in its own right, with humans and Benelim instead of water. True Nephilim were there too, standing out of the crowd like lonely towers. Monstrous behemoths shook the ground with their footfalls, shackled with tightened ropes and apparati, lifting large and heavy crates from great sailing vessels that were as big as buildings. Moving merchandise from distant shores or loading minerals from the mines.

  The voices of hagglers rose above the auditory chaos in the air. Leo could hear half a dozen different tongues. Banners of many places and regions stood amongst the wharves like trees. Thankfully, Leo knew which flag to look for. The same one that adorned the sail of the ship he and Martin had seen the other day. He kept his eyes peeled.

  “Are you sure this will work?” asked Avella. “Benelim haven’t worked with Godshards for centuries.”

  “I met them a couple of days ago. They seemed friendly enough,” insisted Leo.

  She shook her head and said, “Is that seriously what we’re holding out hope on?”

  “You have a better idea?” Her silence said everything. At last, Leo caught sight of the banner, a golden-brown tree. “This way.”

  They shuffled through the crowd swiftly. Sure enough, Leo spotted a familiar bireme with Petro and the other Benelim; some were armed and armored, some were not. They were talking amongst themselves, and a couple were moving barrels aboard the ship.

  Petro quickly spotted them and grinned. “Leo? I didn’t expect to see you here. How are you?” He saw Avella, and his friendly demeanor fell to a practiced neutrality. “Is she with you?”

  Avella reached out to shake his hand. “Avella Avalon. it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “We need to talk,” Leo said to Petro.

  Petro pointed toward the ship. “Step into my quarters.”

  …………………….

  The ship rocked gently in the waters. Petro’s quarters were small and sparse—just a plain desk with maps and a compass rested on it. The three of them were cramped as they sat down. They explained everything to Petro, from the dread-wasp leg to the encounters at the sanctum and the temple. The Benelim was unreadable, much to Leo’s chagrin.

  “All we need is passage to Tressviae,” said Leo.

  Petro shook his head. “I’m afraid I cannot help you. The navy of the Realm of the Golden Wood is a well-oiled machine, a precise paragon of efficiency. It is our greatest strength; if I deviate from my orders, it could throw the whole thing off balance.”

  “What if you do this as a favor to the Island City?” asked Avella. “And in turn, we would do something for your people?”

  Petro scoffed. “We don’t care for your sacerdozio. We haven’t forgotten their part in the Imperial Terror.”

  “That was two centuries ago, and it was a wrong we went through great efforts to put right.”

  Petro’s eyes flickered, and a pang of sadness and dread shone through momentarily. “Two centuries is yesterday for us. King Christoros remains cautious and untrusting, and I stand by my King. It is not my place to change the status quo, even if I wanted to.”

  “How about a favor for the Guardia Grifone?” asked Leo.

  Petro was silent for a moment. “I’m listening.”

  Leo felt a twinge of hope; he had to make this count. “I am now a tenente. I can speak with Generale Augustino, and we can compensate you handsomely for your assistance.”

  “We have little use for your money,” Petro said, rolling his eyes, “however, you know my purpose in these waters. We could use any help we can get. If you could guarantee the assistance of your compagnia in our hunts, I might be able to justify a deviation.”

  “Of course, I can,” Leo replied, beaming; he was grateful for Ricardo’s teachings. “We would need to work out the details, and our deals are always non-exclusive. But Generale Augustino is a man of honor and is always good for repaying favors. Does that work for you?”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Petro leaned in, eyes narrowed at Leo. “What about you? Do I have your word? Can you swear by High King Ioannis?”

  Leo shifted his gaze to Avella, who nodded. He mustered all the confidence he could and said, “I can. You have my word.”

  The two shook hands. Petro smiled, and he clapped his hands together. “Very well then. We will depart at once.”

  ……………

  Leo never wanted to hear a drum ever again. It was bad enough that the ship was somewhat cramped with him and Avella on board, but due to where they had to stand, they were Right. Next, To. The. Drum. The rowers needed the damn thing to keep pace with each other. Leo commended them for such tiring work. It’s not their fault he wanted to murder their companion. Each thrum was making his head pound, and the sun beating down on them as they exited the canals did him no favors. He felt sweaty and gross, not unlike the rigors of campaign travel.

  He looked over at Avella. She was hovering in the air, cross-legged. Her black robes fluttered in the sea breeze, and she mumbled in the Old Tongue. She was holding a bunch of stones, no bigger than pebbles. Several appeared to be glowing, and with each round of chanting, more and more began to glow. Despite her intense concentration, each drumbeat caused her to wince. It troubled him to see her so distracted. Did she know something he didn’t again?

  “What’s with her?” asked Petro. The commander had been at the front, surveying their current course.

  “I don’t know,” answered Leo.

  Her eyes opened, and she shifted from her cross-legged position into a standing one, still hovering. “It’s less cramped for me if I hover.” That answered one of Leo’s unspoken questions, at least. She turned to Petro. “I was binding spells to my spellstones. This way, I don’t have to do as much chanting if something bad happens, and I can cast many more spells as well.”

  “Can you sense any trouble ahead?” asked Petro.

  Avella’s eyes flickered. “I don’t know for sure. But I would rather be safe than sorry.”

  Petro nodded. Leo looked around and noticed that the canals were getting further and further away, and the land was getting less arid. Despite the drumming, it was a surreal experience to be on this particular river from a new perspective. The only time he’d been at this stream was on excursions with Martin. But those were merely on the shore further west; he had never sailed the river itself.

  Above the rowers, he saw the armored warriors that accompanied the vessel. He had a better look at them this time. The bronze-golden plates had a slight shimmer that reminded him of star iron. Of greater interest were the crossbows they wielded. They were unlike any he had ever seen. Unlike the ones Leo had used, they were all metal, the arms of the bows were much broader, and they appeared to have some type of gear-like apparatus that looked very intricate. One of the soldiers noticed his observation.

  “Impressive, isn’t it? Certainly better than the ones your people use. Would you like to hold it?” He held out the weapon. Leo shrugged and walked over to him, and took it in his hands. It felt surprisingly light and sleek. “Is it true that you’re part of the Guardia Grifone?” Leo nodded as he handed the crossbow back. “Is Markus still in command?”

  Leo raised an eyebrow. “No, our generale is Augustino. And long may he still lead.”

  “You’re thinking of the commander before him,” Petro chimed in, gesturing to the other Benelim. “My first mate, Curio.”

  Curio bowed. “My apologies; I forget how short human lifespans are. Save for the Pars Deus anyway.”

  “No worries, I would probably make the same blunder,” Leo replied.

  For the moment, things were decent; it was a welcome reprieve for Leo.

  They sailed for hours, unceasing and strong. The Benelim rowed in shifts, changing hands every few hours. Before long, the sun began to set, and onward they still went—courtesy of the endurance of the Benelim.

  Leo was exhausted and sore, the labors and terror from the previous day and night catching up to him. Even Avella looked weary. He didn’t know if Maghi needed to sleep, but Leo could see her eyelids drooping. Petro kindly offered his quarters, however cramped they might be, which they gratefully accepted.

  Leo sat at the back wall of the captain’s quarters and tried to get comfortable. It was tricky, initially; the small space didn’t help. However, the boat’s rocking was soothing, and even the drum was faint enough not to wear on his mind.

  Avella sat down next to him. “I wanted to apologize for what I said earlier.”

  “Me too,” replied Leo. “This is all very new to me. I feel like I’m in a new world—a different battlefield. I should have brought up my encounter with those shadowy figures sooner. Maybe that would have kept us on our guard, and we’d still have our horses and not be on a ship in the middle of a river.”

  Avella grew silent. Leo turned to see her staring ahead; her eyes flickered, and her lips moved ever so slightly. Trying to find the words, she said, “The problem is my own. We Maghi don’t work with other people too much.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s just what the Twin Path dictates. Maghi stay in their sanctums and study, sacerdoti work in their temples and go forth among the people.”

  “Do you like it that way?” asked Leo,

  She shrugged. “Most of the time. Maghi tend to like the quiet, like being alone, the dark. Despite it being against my nature, sometimes I wish I could get out of the sanctum more. That’s why Arco-Maga Magdaline assigns me tasks like helping at Venito. I wanted to just . . . get out.”

  Leo tilted his head. “How can you say it’s against your nature when it’s something you desire?”

  She was quiet for a moment. “My point is, having a bodyguard, it’s something I’m not used to. And the fact I need one right now is alarming.” She tried maintaining her aloof facade, but Leo could see the cracks. “I’m afraid of the fact that I don’t know what’s going on, Leo. I wish things were back to the way they were before. When things made sense. I took my frustrations out on you, and that was wrong. I’m sorry.”

  Leo clasped his hands together and said, “How about going forward we are completely open with each other? No secrets, no withholding anything. Even if something is obvious, we let the other know. It’s the only way this is going to work.”

  “Agreed.”

  Leo noticed her hand was shaking. He reached out with his, gently grasping it and calming it. He wanted to give her some words of encouragement, how he would protect her, how they would find a way to somehow magically solve their problems. But the words never came to him; Martin was always the wordsmith. Yet somehow, he knew that she knew. That was all that mattered. Leo’s eyes grew heavy, and soon the world went black.