Blood of the Sea, Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter 24: Intrigue

Astrophel

Astrophel and the others get back to the ships and signal for everyone to unload their cargo; there’s some sighs of relief after the long journey, but also some confusion. Everyone was told they would be traveling to another place, far beyond the familiar waters of their islands, but no one knew what to expect.

When the ships are mostly unloaded, Astrophel finds himself leaning against one of the ships’ hulls, watching the city bustle about the harbor, setting boats to water, and bringing in the early fishing crews. There is obvious camaraderie, and his heart lifts upon seeing it. These are a kind people. Perhaps their God has truly swayed them toward hospitality. It is an unexpected sight, but not an unwelcome one after the journey.

Dionne crosses to where Astrophel perches, folding her arms as she leans her back against the beached ship. “What do you plan to do?” Astrophel makes a questioning noise in his throat and Dionne continues, “With regards to sleeping in that house.”

“The crews are welcome to it. I’m afraid it will be too foreign to me just yet. I’ll sleep outside, here, on the shore.”

“Sounds lonely. Cold.”

Astrophel smiles, catching Dionne’s eye, “Indeed. Think you could accompany me?”

She turns to face him, leaning toward him conspiratorially, “That might be arranged.”

“Just kiss already,” Sulien laughs, walking up to the pair.

“Sul,” Astrophel greets.

“What’d they have to say? You meet with their elder, or do they not have one?”

Khalil and Nox follow after Sulien, seeing their friends gather. Khalil asks, “Did you tell them about the journal?”

Astrophel shakes his head, “We did not. Perhaps we can have a meeting tonight, in a more comfortable setting.”

“A bonfire?” Nox asks.

Astrophel smiles, “You might be on to something.”

Dionne frowns, “Surely we don’t want that large of a gathering.”

“What’s to stop us?” Sulien butts in, “We appeared on their shores out of the sea’s mists, unannounced…”

Khalil’s eyebrows arch on his forehead, “And how were we to announce ourselves to a foreign land we didn’t know existed for sure or not?”

“We weren’t sure it existed?” Nox asks, their eyes going wide.

“No, no, we knew it existed…” Dionne corrects.

“Based on a journal that is who knows how many years old,” Sulien smirks. “This place could have washed away.”

“This is all beside the point,” Astrophel insists. “We are here. We made the journey. Now what?”

“Aren’t we supposed to be asking you that?” Nox asks.

“We are the Five. This is a group decision,” Astrophel reminds his friends. Around them, the crews set down their supplies and sit in clusters, break out some rations, and settle at the edge of the discussion happening. Some are more attentively listening, while others share their own news and recountings of the people and places within the city - from what little they’ve seen.

“What’s the point of coming here?” Khalil asks.

“To follow in the footsteps of history,” Dionne smiles cheekily. “Isn’t that enough?”

“Ah, so we risked over a hundred lives on a whim,” Khalil snorts. “What good leaders we make.”

“Eulla told me to come here,” Astrophel admits. The group turns to face him as one.

“You didn’t mention…” Nox starts to say.

“We all saw Her when we took up the Hilts, yes?” Everyone nods. Astrophel blows out a breath, “She told me that my future was here, not back at home.”

“Oh, is that all?” Sulien snarks.

“Sul,” Dionne snaps back, shaking her head once.

“It’s fine, Dio. He has the right to ask, just as much as any of the rest of you.” Astrophel holds up a hand, warding off Sulien’s attitude, “You know we cannot speak to much about things that haven’t come to pass yet. There’s a sense of impermanence to it all. I don’t know which way I will push it by recounting what I experienced.”

Sulien rolls his eyes, “As much as I’d like to disagree, you have to go and make sense. Damn you for that.”

Astrophel laughs, the sound half forced, half relieved. “Indeed, my friend.”

“So, about this bonfire…” Khalil wiggles his eyebrows as if making a bad joke.

Nox’s brows bunch together with thought, “We could ask the boat-makers for leftover wood. That way we wouldn’t be tearing down these people’s forests.”

Dionne wraps an arm around Nox, “Good thinking. Let’s go ask for some. Khalil, would you find someone from town to…”

“Someone from town, like me?” Seri steps carefully around the piles of supplies and the people lounging on the shore, above the waterline, making her way toward the Five. “How could I be of assistance?”

“We were thinking of hosting a bonfire…” Astrophel says, trying to gauge her receptivity to the idea.

Seri’s eyes sparkle, “Oh, what a good idea. I was going to invite you… five?” Her voice pitches with the question, but she continues when the group nods, “To speak with the elder this evening, but it seems as though you all have beat me to the punch as far as the planning of it all.” She pauses, scanning the crowd, “I’m sure our people will leap at the opportunity to get drunk and celebrate.”

The group laughs, those in the crowd close enough to hear this statement cheering. Astrophel chuckles, “So it would seem.”

“Tonight then?” Seri asks.

“Tonight.”

~

With everyone helping, and the people of the harbor finishing their days of work and noticing the flurry of activity on the beach, the clearing of space and supplies, and the setting up of the actual wood for the bonfire goes quickly. It is early evening by the time the first drink is passed around, and the group grows friendly and boisterous as they wait for Seri and the elder to join them. People from Kildangan spread the word, and the party spills into the streets, overtaking the beach and harbor entirely with lights bobbing behind the safety of lantern trappings, and a few torches spotted throughout as night falls ever more darkly. The stars come out to play in the blanket of the sky, and what clouds are overhead are stretched thin like strands of worked cotton.

Astrophel nurses a drink in his hand, more attentive to the interactions between his people and their hosts.

Dionne prods him, bumping her knee against his, “You should relax. This is good for us.” She cheers him with her own drink and takes a swing. “We’ve made it this far. Our people haven’t been in this place for quite some time.”

“Do you think it was a mistake?”

“What part?” Dionne asks, taking another drink, peering at him over the brim of her drinking horn.

“Dragging everyone away from the life they knew.”

“You said Eulla told you to come.”

“Repeatedly. I couldn’t escape Her.”

Dionne giggles, “Sounds like the sea alright. She’s always there.” They’re quiet before Dionne continues, scooting closer to Astrophel and putting her cheek on his shoulder, “You have nothing to worry about. Everyone loves you.”

“Not everyone,” Astrophel argues, his gaze landing on Vance’s friends who decided to tag along on the trip. They notice him watching and talk amongst themselves, maintaining eye contact. Astrophel raises his drinking horn in their direction, but they ignore him, shifting to face another direction. Raelyn sits with those from Montoro, but Astrophel sees her glance frequently into the dark. Must be looking for Vance. He takes another drink, the warm liquid filling his nose and mouth with a rich honey flavor.

“Oh ignore them. They’ll always root for Vance and only Vance. You’re the First among the Fiveee,” Dionne drawls, drawing his attention once more. “The people wanted you to lead them.”

Astrophel finds himself lacking the words to follow, his mouth opening like a fish thrown ashore, but he forces himself to take another swig of his drink, rather than wait for the words to come. Over the brim of his cup, the firelight dances across the features and gestures of bodies moving in the crowd. Some are familiar, others not so, but all are united under the light of the three moons.

It’s hard for anyone to make their way through the revelers, but eventually, Seri does. Standing before Astrophel and Dionne as they preside over the gathering, she gives a little imitation of a bow, her head and shoulders bending, the rest of her staying upright.

“You found us,” Astrophel greets. Dionne raises her drinking horn, and offers Seri another.

“As you found us,” Seri replies with a smile, dipping her head in thanks to Dionne as she takes the horn, examining it in a way that says she is unfamiliar with the shape, but familiar enough with the concept. “I must give praise to your navigator for making the trip, if it is as long as you say.”

“Longer,” Dionne jokes.

Seri’s eyebrows arch, “Longer, then.”

Astrophel shakes his head but doesn’t correct her. “You would be looking for a dead man and our wave caller.”

“A dead man brought you here?” Seri’s brows furrow, the whites of her eyes flashing with surprise in the mix of fire and starlight.

“A journal,” Astrophel amends, “written by those from ages past.” And a very insistent Goddess.

“May I see it?”

Astrophel looks to Dionne who shrugs and climbs to her feet, making her way toward her belongings. The other two watch her go.

“You are lucky,” Seri says softly, her voice almost buried under the sounds of the party, the lapping of the waves, and the crackling wood.

Astrophel glances at Seri, “In some ways more than others.”

“It sounds like you’ve had a life of adventure.”

“Not much of an adventure, living in one place.”

“But you’ve come all this way because of a journal you found?” Seri gives him a quizzical look, “How do you justify that?”

“Justify it? Why do I have to?”

“You don’t,” she takes a swig of the heady drink in the horn, scrunching her nose at the taste and Astrophel has to laugh, “but you can’t say you haven’t been adventurous. Not all of us can just pack up and leave.”

“Why not? What are you trying to escape?”

“It’s not so much escaping.” Seri looks beyond him, into the woods and the night, “It’s more of a yearning for something new.”

“A wanderer’s heart. You should follow the urge.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?” Astrophel tosses back a large gulp of his own drink, the spices filling his senses in a pleasant, tingly way, “It’s your life.”

Seri shakes her head and changes the topic. “Where is your navigator, then? Your - what did you call it? - wave caller?”

“Vance is our wave caller. He should be with his friends.” Astrophel forces his gaze back over toward Vance’s friends; they’re still huddled together, though the tension in their bodies has melted away some, the drink setting in and making them lighter, more jovial. Astrophel scans and scans again, frowning when he doesn’t see Vance among them. He searches for Raelyn, but finds her quickly enough, leaning against one of the ships with some of the other women. The torchlight glints off of a sleek hide lying alongside the ship in the sand, and Astrophel finds a smile working its way up his face. Some of the Hydrurga have settled at the edge of the water, watchful but curious.

Seri tenses, “Vance? He told you of his intention to speak with the High Mage, then.”

“What?” Astrophel’s smile fades in an instant, chased away by the furrowing of his brows.

Dionne returns, smiling and waving the journal, “I found it. Had to move some people who were sitting on my stuff first.” Her smile drops when she sees Astrophel’s bewilderment, “What did I miss?”

Seri sighs, “I guess Vance is your magic-user…”

Dionne cuts her off, “Several of us have magic. Some are more latent than others.”

Seri’s head rears back, “You have magic?”

Astrophel pulls out his hilt and ignites it, the silvery white magic illuminating the blade. Seri’s expression is dumbfounded, and Astrophel quiets the blade, rehooking the hilt to his hip.

“You’re mages then.”

Astrophel frowns, “Why do we need a title like this? What does it matter that some of us have magic? Is it…”

Seri rushes to spit out the words, “Oh it’s nothing bad like that. Our leaders are magic-users. Though, they’re usually born with their magic. I don’t have magic. Most of us here wouldn’t even dream of having magic.”

“It happens to some of us and not for others. It’s not a big deal,” Dionne says, sitting next to Astrophel again, cuddling under his arm which he replaces around her shoulders.

“Why would Vance want to speak with this High Mage?” Astrophel asks.

“Is he one to seek out… power?” Seri asks hesitantly.

Dionne snorts, “He wanted one of the hilts, but was pleased he became a wave caller. It worked out in the end.”

“Are your wave callers well respected?”

Astrophel kisses Dionne’s head as she responds again, “Of course. They can shape the water and know where the fishing is good, or where to steer in unfamiliar waters.”

“So he is important.”

“Sure, he’s important.”

“But he wanted a hilt?”

Dionne makes an agreeable noise in her throat.

“Why?”

“They signify who our leaders are. Those chosen by the tribes.”

“You have several then?”

“What?”

“Leaders. Hilts,” Seri gestures with the hand not holding the drinking horn.

“Yes, we have five.”

“And he is not among these five?”

“No,” Dionne smirks, “Thank the gods.”

“Does he think he should be?” Seri pursues the topic and Dionne looks to Astrophel, her eyebrows raised in a way he knows means to step in.

“Vance has always been… presumptive about his place in Magellani. He did want a hilt before he was recognized as a wave caller. I don’t guess at knowing his heart.”

Seri shifts her weight, “I’m sorry, then.”

“Whatever for?”

“He has probably left for Seyune, and I fear it will only cause you trouble.”

Astrophel throws up his free hand, “Why should that bother me?”

“The High Mage doesn’t take kindly to wild magic…”

“You said it wasn’t a problem that we have magic.”

“No, but…” Seri pauses. “Perhaps it’s not worth mentioning. Maybe nothing will come of it.” She repeats the partial bow gesture, “I’ll head in for the night. Enjoy the celebration, and welcome to Farrah.” She fades back into the crowd, the smoke from the bonfire clouding the scene, obscuring people, and carrying the scent of burning wood to Astrophel; the chalky taste of ash conflicting with the refreshment of the cool, sea-blowing breeze at his back, filling his mouth with the comfort of salt and fish.