The ship’s anchor hit the rocks below with a crushing a coral reef, destroying the homes of possibly of marine organisms, though no one would ever notice, or care.

  “Can’t go no further.” The man tipped his hat. “Apologies.”

  “Because of the rocks?”

  “Pardon?”

  “That’s good enough,” Peter remarked, seeming to pretend like he didn’t respond to the man at first, “Mind if we take a few of your rowboats?”

  The man glanced uncomfortably at a group of Aldarians, around seven, gathered around a table on the stern deck.

  “I wouldn’t, but could you try to bring them back in one piece?”

  Peter narrowed his eyes yet again. Pierson thought while standing near one of the sails.

  “That’s good,” Peter said. “We will not so much as scratch them.”

  “I’m tired of eating tuna.” Sighed Marco, “It’s making me sick.”

  “I think it’s fine,” Akoto remarked. “Hey, captain!”

  The captain of the ship came forth. “Yes?”

  “What model of ship is this?”

  The captain blinked. “A 192 explorer model.”

  “Does it have any weapons?”

  The captain became distraught.

  “Err… no. Not besides the short range defense cannons, I suppose.”

  Hadwyn was focusing on the edge of the landmass that lay ahead. There were no rocks jutting out.

  Plates shifting were more common in a naval sense. Hot earth would turn and shift under the water pressure that seemed to continuously suppress it. Eventually though, the hot lava would win, and shoot igneous spikes out. A sheet of virgin rock as sharp and as hard as could be.

  Hadwyn narrowed his eyes. He could barely see anything. He highly doubted the captain either. It was extremely difficult to navigate without some sort of magic, or perhaps a seer of the seas.

  Seer of the seas was a legendary spell that every sailor dreamed of having, even the anivors. It allows you to navigate the ocean without trouble or error.

  It was said that a captain who was also the son of one of the grand wizards hid it somewhere in the world.

  Hadwyn sighed. Oh, how he had missed being in the ocean. He missed the gentle rocking of the boat and the smell of the salt. He missed fishing and diving.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  He missed Bernard.

  “Go fish.” Natasha said, dusting her hands off after planting the card on the table.

  “Dammit.” Ruby cursed, “How do you do it?”

  “I’ve played this game since I was a kid,” Natasha said, stifling a yawn, “I’m starting to get a little bored… Are you sure we can’t play stackers? It's way more fun.

  “One more round.” Ruby insisted, “Just one more.”

  Teresa got up from her seat, “I’m going to talk to Peter about the mission.”

  “W–” But she was gone already. Hadwyn slumped back into his seat.

  “Hadwyn, you wanna get in on this?” Natasha asked.

  “No, thank you,” Hadwyn replied.

  Natasha turned back to Ruby, “Let’s get started then.”

  The island was nothing special. They had been provided by maps by the Zyenurian tourist agency.

  “This is virgin rock, isn’t it?” Akoto asked Natasha. Natasha paused her scouting, compacting her telescope. “That is correct. I wouldn’t be surprised if it were to disappear within a year or so.” The sailor tossed his cigar into the docking area. The dingy rocked with his arms pivot. They were greeted by marines, who wore dark, aquamarine camouflage.

  “Tread lightly,” Peter remarked.

  “On the virgin rock?” Hadwyn asked stupidly.

  Peter didn’t respond.

  Natasha gripped her gun harder, “Peter, be careful.”

  Again, Peter didn’t respond.

  He simply stepped off the boat and stuck out his hand. The Marines didn’t bow, instead a man with a beard stepped forward, obviously the staff sergeant.

  “Long passage?”

  “Longer than I’d like,” Peter remarked, “I have an interesting story to tell you.”

  “We are just as surprised as you,” insisted the sergeant, “I am Kaney.”

  “Peter, Temp maintainer of the Association of Foreign Heroic Agents.” The marine looked unimpressed.

  “But enough formalities,” Peter said, “Let’s begin on the assessment.”

  The marine slid his tongue along his gums and teeth, “You brought Aldarians with you?”

  “They’re supposed to be here. They are the field agents.”

  The marine lowered his bow.

  “If what you say is true…” *Ahem* The marine proceeded to say something in Zyenurian. One of the officers stepped forward, “You brought along aldarians? Which power grade?”

  “All first gens, average of 30.33.” Peter replied. The translator spoke to the staff sergeant, who twisted his nose.

  “When does the army arrive?” Pierson asked.

  “When I want,” Kaney replied.

  Peter broke into a smile, which Pierson saw as irregular, but nothing to be worried of. They chatted for a little while longer before retreating from the coast. All the while, Hadwyn peeled off little shreds of wood from the dingy. Teresa put her hand on his.

  She mouthed.

  Hadwyn couldn’t shake the disturbance from his gut. The island reeked with death and misery.

  “At any rate, I expected the army to have gotten here already.” Pierson said, pouring tea, “Want a drink?”

  “Not really in the mood,” Peter remarked, throwing a paper on the table. He quickly followed with a gold coin, to prevent the paper from flapping like their tent did in the violent wind. “Tip ahoy,” he muttered, “Get a load of this shit.”

  Pierson shifted the paper, “What the hell?”

  Peter put his finger to his temple, “Stitched wounds won't heal if you keep cutting the threads. Only 20% of the country is actually under the monarch. The rest are warlords and maybe a few actual outposts that are almost completely isolated from federal support anyways. You know what surprises me the most? The Zyenurians don’t want our help, they don’t want the Aetleans, the Paknovians, the Onyxians, or even Kazkonese, yet they accepted the High Elves. Arcanium has been separated from Kazkon and Zyenur for the longest time.

  So the warlords are trying to pressure the government to cut contact with Arcanium.

  “It doesn’t help that Sorulen is Kazkonese.” Pierson remarked.

  Peter stared down at his empty cup for a second before continuing, “Onyxians are possibly working with Paknov… Actually they’re more than likely working with Paknov.”

  “Wasn’t Kazkon and Zyenur the same thing?” Asked the translator.

  “They might as well be. The main difference that everyone gripes about is foreign intervention. Zyenur was pretty much the name the Onyxians gave to Kazkon when they divided it in half.

  “Yes, warlords like to sit on top of their riches like dragons, but they foolishly traded out their access to the coast. By the time the Kazkonese realized they had been duped, the Onyxians already had a fully functioning base.”

  “Clearer than fucking glass,” Peter replied, “I wonder how Hadwyn is. Kid needs to get his shit together if we are going to have a successful mission.”