#adrian;threads

A lot had happened lately.

That’s what he reminded himself every time his mind raced or his emotions bubbled up. They made no sense, but feelings never did when they ran so deep. He was learning that with a certainty he’d never experienced before in more than three centuries of life. Was that the effect a single person could have on him because of a dazzling smile—even the shy ones—and kindness that knew no limits?

That wasn’t entirely fair, though. Saylor wasn’t just that, she was so much that she was becoming everything. And that was dangerous. He’d arrived in Calamity with goals and a mask, and now he was disoriented and emotionally naked.

The need to clear his mind and rearrange his plans of vengeance led him away from everything that was starting to feel comfortable. His borrowed feet took him to the Outerworld, to the lines of decrepit buildings and battle ruins that were once home to many. The air tasted like dust and stains of old blood. The wind cut through the grey blocks like a blade, and yet his mind felt at ease. It was so different from the muffled peace he felt underwater, but he’d spent so much time on the surface that he wasn’t sure where he truly belonged anymore.

Stopping in front of what could’ve been a bookshop once, he observed the mess inside past the blasted window. Rows of shelves lined the otherwise empty space, remains of inked paper and glass were scattered across the splintered floorboards. It looked apocalyptic. And tempting.

Quietly, he stepped inside to observe and, with any luck, find any forgotten tomes that hadn’t been completely destroyed or rescued yet. It was as he turned around one of the shelves that he heard a noise, shuffling and crunching coming from the back of the shop. He went completely still, slowly reaching for the water pouch at his waist.

“Why don’t you show yourself slowly, mate?” Adrian raised his voice, cautious yet authoritative. “We can go our different ways without spilling blood.”

In the midst of his writing session, Adrian’s gaze drifted to the clock perched on his desk. Its hands seemed to tick faster the longer he looked, almost as if mocking him. Mirae would ne knocking soon, ready to go through another endless list of noble families and their whole genealogies. Or perhaps today’s lesson would be town management and internal politics. Or, worse, a complete recitation of the kingdom’s laws. Again.

He took a deep breath to keep his eyes from rolling. Instead, he went over the notes he had been carefully transcibing from his traveling journals onto fresh algae scrolls. A particular memory involving a snowy port, a cranky polar bear, and several barrels filled with fish to the brim, stretched his lips into a fond smile. Maybe, again, one day.

An expected knock on the door pulled him back to the present. He blinked quickly, preparing himself, and cleared his throat. “Aye, come in,” he called, raising his voice just enough to be heard through the thick threshold.

In a rush, Adrian swept every journal and scroll into a drawer, out of sight. It was known that he spent hours writing, but best to keep prying eyes away from what could easily reveal the truth of his past life at sea.

The Flying Dagger was the one thing Adrian couldn’t get rid of from his pirate days. He didn’t want to overthink it, so he called it a private memento of a past life, but there was a scared part of him still believing that one day he could go back to it and sail away once more, even after his coronation and the vows he took.

Selling it would be the smart choice; it would save him not only kochba, but all the stress from keeping it secret and all the disappointment from a wish that could never be fulfilled...

None of that stopped him from searching Calamity in hopes of finding someone handy enough to repair a galleon. It had already been damaged when the thugs sent by his parents boarded it and later trashed it just to reiterate the delivered message. And after that, plowing through the infinite caverns hadn’t been exactly a smooth trip. The masts and the sails saw the worst part of it due to the many stalagmites obstructing the way, but many other parts were in need of care as well.

His scouting took him to the Outerworld, to a mechanic shop seemingly managed by a werewolf. That was all the information he could gather before paying Gas’kit & Wheels a visit.

“Hello?” he called as he stepped into the warehouse, moving toward the clanking coming from the back, with curious eyes and a cautious approach. He had no idea about what he might find there, whether the owner was discreet enough to make a deal with him, or if they could tackle a ship… But he had to ask.

A few days before his own wedding, Adrian took on one last adventure. Maybe it didn’t look like a big deal to some, but everyone knew the stories of how challenging it was to enter Myre Grove for anyone but its residents, a quest that the future King of the Forgotten had experienced himself only once before, back in his teenage years. But taking the risk of getting lost in the Belwyn Forest would prove worthwhile as long as he completed the task at hand. He needed to find the impossible: a trustworthy fae.

Before they parted forever, his winged crewmate had advised him to visit the Collector’s Quarters, where he would be able to make deals with less shady people than he might find in other corners of Myre Grove, or even The Haven.

Even if he was to be bound to the throne from the moment he took the Queen’s hand in marriage, Adrian still had to keep relations going with land dwellers, even if just to keep his ship hidden and safe. It was the only thing he couldn’t say goodbye to. Not yet. And so he was on the search for someone he could rely on whenever legs were required. Someone whose magic endured while their prices bent in the merman’s favor.

By the time he reached the shop, Adrian was dizzy and a little disoriented, but he did a moderately good job concealing it. He had a plan, a strategy... but first he needed to sit until his vision settled.

He stumbled inside and with a shaky exhale, he let his weight fall onto an old, beautiful armchair with intricate carvings along its wooden parts. Better not look at those until he felt more in control of his stomach.

There weren’t many ways for Adrian to dodge his entourage. They were always on his fins, despite the King’s insistent requests to be left alone. Law dictated he couldn’t stray outside the castle on his own, for reasons his advisors, the Commander and his own Queen–wife had all drilled into his head.

He’d made peace with it—almost entirely—but there were still times when the pirate soul demanded freedom and agency far from his monitored home. So he found new hidden passages to evade the royal guard. Sewers weren’t exactly his favorite route, but they worked just fine. The only inconvenience was that he couldn’t expect Saylor to want him anywhere near her for the next few days. Probably.

What he didn’t expect was to run into Josiah, dealing with the same consequences, treading through filthy water just as Adrian reached the surface.

“What are you doing here?” He asked in mild shock as he took the other man in, feeling like both prey and hunter all at once.

Ever since his return, Adrian had ventured through the Infinite Caverns whenever he could in an attempt to map them.

What little he remembered from his childhood about their endless tunnels served to draft a safe passage between the ocean and the land, but there was so much to explore. What began as a narrow corridor of damp stone branched into a labyrinth of caves and flooded chambers carved by centuries of pantient water. Some grottos were little more than pockets in the rock, while others opened into vast underground spaces where entire buildings could have disappeared beneath the stone ceilings.

One such cavern hid a secret. His secret.One of them.

Anchored near a rocky outcropping sat a galleon, though smaller and faster than most vessels of its kind. Time had weathered the wood, but it remained beautiful in the way all well–loved things did. The hull—currently under maintenance—bore the scars of countless voyages, each mark another anecdote in a story that lasted centuries.

The name remained painted across the stern: The Flying Dagger.

And its captain stood upon the quaterdeck near a table cluttered with navigational instruments and star charts. One hand rested on an unfurled map while the other traced a route across fresh ink lines. For a few precious hours, during the last moments of daylight, there were no councils to attend and no crown weighing on his head.

Three hundred years. Give or take. That’s how long it had been since he swam through the corridors of Dryden Manor, of home. Although, he couldn’t think of it like that anymore. Not despite the warm welcome awaiting him, led by his hypocritical parents and attended by some of his siblings. The return of the black sheep wasn’t enough to tear them away from their obligations. If only they knew of his piracy, and not the merchant crap that was fed to them.

And for that, Adrian was grateful.

If he was back, it was only to protect one of them from his own mistakes, he didn’t doubt their parents’ lack of moral scruples. And he just wished that their secret target wasn’t the one sister he had always held dear to his heart.

Kailana. There she was, coming to see the one sibling who had missed all of the major events in her life. The one who wrote her but never showed up. As he stood next to one of the large reading room’s windows, he turned to look at her. The tight knot in his stomach tightened a tad more. Guilt almost seemed to pour out of his gills.

“It’s been long, Kai,” he murmured, his voice hoarse with heaviness. It wasn’t just remorse that tinted it, there was so much reflected in his eyes that she couldn’t have possibly noticed from his letters. But now, face to face, it was obvious that Adrian had lived through many lifetimes.

Saylor wasn't exactly content when her husband said he would like a word with her most trusted advisor. In fact, it seemed as if the idea of it had awakened an array of emotions inside her that not even the Queen herself was ready to confront. Adrian didn't like making her nervous like this, but more and more of these subtle telltales proved that there was something going on between them, at least on her part. And from the way he had caught sight of Josiah looking at her one particular time...

Adrian took a deep breath as he waited for the merman in the castle's main library, where the King usually spent his free time reading but mainly writing in private. He wasn't angry about the whole situation, not exactly, not even if it revealed to be a lot more complicated than he imagined. Even if it turned out that his wife had been in another relationship for much longer than her plans to marry someone had seen the light.

A quill danced between his fingers as he sat at the desk, sunk in his thoughts, gaze lost to the endless possibilities. Perhaps Josiah wasn't willing to talk about it, and that would be all there was to his investigation, but luckily there were other matters Adrian wanted to discuss as well.

Like actual advice. He had promised Saylor that those were his intentions, and he already lied to her about enough things.

“Come in,” he allowed when there was a knock on the door, pulling him out of his head and prompting him to sit straight.