#mianite

Jordan sat with his knees pressed close to his chest. He had been stuck just waiting since Dianite’s brief visit to force a decision from him. That must’ve been hours ago now. Since then, he had been left waiting, waiting for the moment he was pulled away from this place.

He knew he had made the selfish choice. The guilt from it had wormed its way into him in the time he’d been forced to sit with it, but it was necessary, he told himself. His Lady needed him to rescue her. If he swore himself to Dianite, he would be as good as dooming her. Capsize couldn’t want that.

He reasoned that if she was truly willing to give her life for this rescue, if she was that devoted to their Lady, she understood the importance of it as much as he did. If she didn’t, then she wouldn’t attempt the rescue at all, and his decision wouldn’t mean anything. All he’d really chosen was to leave the choice to her.

Besides, it wasn’t as though he could be sure that Dianite was telling the truth. This whole thing could be a trick to get him to betray his Lady. A lie meant to turn him against his fellow Ianitee. Though as he attempted to tell himself that, the devil’s gleaming smile and short laugh after he made his decision replayed in his head and sent a lump of nausea down his throat. His thoughts then sounded just that bit less convincing.

The decision he’d made was the right one, the needed one. Then why did he feel as though he was being slowly chewed and spat out as he waited? Why couldn’t he feel sure in the choice he had made?

The lack of distraction wasn’t helping. The little dinner display Dianite had conjured the previous night had been magicked away just as quickly as it had appeared. The devil had smirked and told him he wouldn’t be needing anything for his brief time left in here before his rescue, leaving the cell once more bare. Though Jordan had muttered that he didn’t want anything he might give him anyway, now after a few hours of being alone with his thoughts, he wished he had anything aside from the chain locked to his ankle and the mockingly repeating red bricks to distract himself.

The nothingness just gave his thoughts ample time to twist into horrible knots. His sureness turned into something sticky and uncomfortable. Every question he shouldn’t be asking was forcing its way into his mind. He tried to maintain his confidence, repeating and reassuring that he needed to be rescued for Lady Ianite to be restored, but as time stretched on, he started to dread the moment his surroundings changed.

He didn’t know why. His escape, regardless of what it had cost, would be an unambiguously good thing. Except, if it happened, that meant at least some of what Lord Dianite had told him the previous night was true. Facing that left him so utterly lost. He didn’t know if he wanted to live in that reality.

He shook himself. He was being ridiculous. Of course, he wanted to get out of here. No matter what. Once he was, it would become obvious that the devil had been twisting the truth. Then he’d stop feeling so lost. A change happening could only be a good thing.

Change did indeed come, but not in a way that offered him any relief.

Lord Dianite appeared in a black smoke that lingered, festering in the air in a bitter thickness. Jordan only managed to stop himself from coughing by experience around heavy flames, though the reoccurrence of those memories threatened to choke him just as the smoke did. He wasn’t going to allow that sign of weakness, though.

Unlike his previous appearances, there was no sign of delight from the devil. He did wear a smile, but it could just as easily be bared teeth with how he stood with shoulders set. It seemed the air around him was boiling, threatening to explode with any movement.

Though his appearance still brought force the anger and fear in the champion as it had throughout his imprisonment, the obvious annoyance conjured an emotion far different. Something he had been severely lacking despite his desperate attempts to keep hold of it. Hope.

He rose to his feet, a fire in him that the devil had been attempting to smother. In this moment, his confidence was bolstered, back to the height it should be.

“You lied,” He said, a smile breaking its way onto his face. It was completely undeniable. The devil had been caught in a bold-faced lie. He was ashamed that he’d let himself believe any of it in the first place, but now he’d realised the error in that, he wasn’t going to let himself be tricked again. “Capsize doesn’t have the ability to rescue me. You were—”

“Do you really think I’d tell such an easily proven falsehood?” Dianite asked, his gaze slowly turning to his prisoner. He almost sounded disappointed, like he expected more of him. Though, that didn’t knock Jordan’s confidence at all.

There would be no reason for him to be here if his friends were actually attempting to rescue him. He’d be watching them to ensure they failed. Or if he had somehow been telling the truth last night, he’d be standing by, waiting to tell them all how Jordan had sealed Capsize’s fate to ensure his own freedom. The fact he was instead here with him obviously meant that the whole forced choice had been a farce.

Except, the devil gave no impression that he’d been caught out. Rather he just seemed frustrated. “Your girl most certainly tried to rescue you. She would’ve been reduced to little more than a burnt husk had she actually finished her task.”

He was growling, seeing no reason to hide his anger at how the day had gone. It wasn’t as though Sparklez was going to be able to tell anyone.

The little captain was supposed to be dead. All that spite and skill was meant to be reduced to a ruined corpse that even his sister couldn’t revive into anything useful. Though she hadn’t exactly been left in a condition that allowed her to be of any help to anyone, she would be able to heal and act a nuisance once more. This was not the total victory he had been looking for.

Jordan swallowed, reminding himself not to fall for any tricks this time. He just needed to stand his ground. If he could do that, then at least he’d be ensuring his Lady didn’t lose any more strength from his wavering.

He stood, took a bold step towards his captor.

“You expect me to believe that you chose to stop her?” He wasn’t buying it. He’d known when he was making his choice that Dianite would never willingly save Capsize, even if he’d betrayed his Lady for him. When he had literally chosen the opposite, given him free reign to let her finish the process no matter how big a sacrifice she had to make, he couldn’t fathom why he would’ve stopped her. So if she’d had the power to teleport him out of here, she would’ve succeeded.

Deep, mocking laughter filled the cell, the devil’s fury mixing with waves of disbelieving entertainment. Jordan refused to back down, even as the noise began to rattle his bones. The god’s eyes locked upon him, dark pits that Jordan couldn’t pull his own away from regardless of how he tried.

“Oh no, Sparklez. I didn’t do anything to stop her,” He lent closer to the man who was attempting to deny reality. “It was your friends who decided to stop your rescue.”

Jordan’s thoughts stopped all at once.

“No. No, you’re lying!” It was another lie. It had to be. Just one more lie in a long line of those Dianite had told to try and force his loyalty away from his Lady. Why would his friends have stopped his rescue? That just didn’t make any sense. If Capsize had a way to get him back, they’d take it no matter how dangerous it was.

However, those black pits were boring into him. The devil was in no mood for his denial.

“She’d barely even started before Firefoxx decided to try and rip this thing from her hand,” He pulled from seemingly thin air a charred flower. It could’ve been from anywhere; it could even just be something the devil had conjured out of nothing. But Jordan knew, he just did in his bones, that it was his rose held in the devil’s claws.

He couldn’t believe the tale Dianite was spinning. It was beyond any logical thought to believe that his friends would save Capsize over him. However, as he tried to reassure himself of that, the flower, burnt and charred as it was, took a hold on his thoughts and began to cling to each thread of belief. They were caught on the thorns, turning to knots.

Why was he so sure it was his rose? It was hardly recognisable in its current state. Yet he could just feel that it was.

Why did he think that made Dianite’s story more truthful? He could’ve just burnt it himself. Why wouldn’t he have? After all, he was using it as a prop to try to convince Jordan that his friends had abandoned him. That seemed like motive enough.

Yet each and every reassurance he tried to give himself just made his throat tighten more. They hadn’t all decided to abandon him, right?

“Once their decision was made, I realised that plans had to change,” Dianite hardly seemed to be talking to Jordan. Rather it seemed as though he was simply speaking through his own thoughts.

Really, the god hadn’t expected everything to play out this way. At this moment, he was supposed to be mocking his sister that her champion had chosen for her precious little messenger to die to save his own skin. Watching her delicious devastation about that, her rage that she couldn’t even punish the one who had gotten her favourite follower killed. That feast had been stolen away from him in an instant.

This result wasn’t entirely to his disadvantage, of course, but it did require him to make some changes. He wasn’t about to have his own strength drained from the fallout of all of this. “Worse than the fox interfering, my own champion decided to play hero.”

Jordan’s thoughts turned to white noise.

“What?!” He squeezed out. There was as much shock within him as annoyance. Despite what he had been told the night prior, his mind still leapt to bitterness at the idea of Tom interacting with Capsize. As usual, it didn’t fade, though now for a different reason than jealousy. This was a far more dangerous bitterness.

He’d never thought that Tom was so devoted to his Lord that he would betray him like this. He should’ve known. Who swore themselves to the devil if they weren’t willing to betray their friends? But still…

Lord Dianite could feel the festering anger and was glad for it. The next step would be so much easier if he was already filled with betrayal.

“I won’t abide by a disloyal follower, but especially not a disloyal champion,” He could hardly keep himself from smiting the treacherous idiot. What did he think he was achieving by aiding the little thing loyal to his sister? He had to know that wasn’t how his champion was supposed to act.

Well, it didn’t matter anymore. He could have whatever fun he wished with the pirate, broken as she had been left. His title was going to be taken by someone better, someone who hadn’t liked his sister’s most loyal follower in the first place. “Thankfully, though, champions are quite replaceable. Isn’t it lucky that you’re still here?”

Just how hungry those eyes were suddenly hit Jordan. He attempted to take a step backwards, but he found his body completely frozen, held in place by the devil once more. He gritted his teeth.

“I’ve made it very clear that I’m not joining you,” He spat. No matter how many times he was forced to repeat this, he wasn’t going to change his answer. His loyalty remained with his Lady. He was never going to betray her.

Except, Lord Dianite laughed. He laughed longer and harder and louder than he ever had. He grabbed a hold of Sparklez’ hair, pulling the man painfully into the air.

Jordan couldn’t struggle despite the pain, his body still frozen rigid. He was completely helpless as he was brought to be eye level with those pitch-black voids.

“Do you think you’re getting any choice in the matter? I gave you a chance to do this nicely, but I’m not waiting any longer. You’re going to be mine if I have to tear you apart and restitch you together,” He stopped for a moment to smile, displaying each and every one of his jagged teeth. “Don’t worry, you’ll get to see my sister one more time when I let you deal the final blow.”

Without leaving a moment for the man to argue, Dianite pressed a claw into his forehead.

Jordan felt a horrible splintering. It was as if a new being was attempting to force its way into his mind. A being made up of all the worst thoughts he’d ever had. He couldn’t fight or thrash. Even trying to think about anything other than his anger at the others hurt.

All he had that he could do was scream until he was finally given the mercy of blacking out.

⚖ ⚖ ⚖

Sonja watched her brewing stand with mild frustration that the process couldn’t go faster. Normally, she brewed potions in the background while doing other tasks, but right now, she couldn’t focus on anything but making sure these ones got brewed. Anytime she tried to distract herself, she would quickly settle once more in front of the stand. However, the snail’s pace at which they were coming to a boil was driving her to the point of insanity.

She hadn’t wanted to separate from the pirates at all, not when Capsize looked injured enough that a prick from a wayward thorn could finish her off. Except, if she wanted to help her recover, she needed to brew potions. Given that the pirates didn’t have any brewing supplies, she needed to leave them, even if just for a little while.

She’d settled on regeneration potions, the recipe altered slightly to make the effect take longer. As much as she wasn’t a doctor, or really a healer of any kind, she knew from experience how instant healing potions felt when used for a major injury. They hurt about as much as the injury being inflicted in the first place, even if it then felt fine afterwards. It didn’t seem like the ideal way to heal multiple broken bones when they had the time to use a slightly slower method. Especially not when she’d started to gather that the pirates had a significantly different pain tolerance than her and the others. So, a slow but hopefully less painful regeneration it was.

Obviously, she knew how to make these potions. However, when she needed to have them quickly, the speed that the process went was driving her insane.

Even with her annoyance, soon enough the liquid in the glass bottles turned to that familiar purple that let her know the process was done. She didn’t wait for them to cool before plucking them from the stand, ignoring the slight sting they caused her hands. She wasn’t wasting anytime in getting them to the person who needed them.

Or rather, she didn’t intend to be delayed by anything, but as she was leaving the room, her focus fully locked on moving, she was stopped. A hand grabbed her arm, yanking her back.

She spun, ready to attack whoever it was. She could’ve found herself facing Lord Mianite himself and she still wouldn’t have hesitated. The face she was greeted by was only enough to stop her from immediately launching a fist at them, though it in no way quelled her annoyance.

“What do you want, Tucker?” She asked as she yanked her arm from his grip. She wasn’t in any sort of a mood for him right now, not when he had already prevented her from helping once today.

He had the nerve to look as annoyed at her as she was at him.

“I want an explanation for why the hell you decided to stop Jordan from being rescued,” He demanded. He’d attempted to get this out of her earlier, right after Dianite had disappeared off with their only hope of rescuing Jordan, but she’d rushed off with the pirates, and he’d been left to pick up the pieces with Tom.

He maybe could’ve tried to fish the same answers out of the zombie, but he wasn’t exactly in a fit state to be answering questions. He was lost, rejected by his god despite how, frankly, preventing Jordan’s rescue should be precisely what the devil wanted. Still, Tucker had managed to hold off his annoyance while comforting Tom, assuring that he didn’t need Lord Dianite and was probably better off without him.

Now though, he couldn’t wait any longer. He was going to get some damn answers about this, and Sonja was obviously the one who should give them. She was the one who had attempted to stop Capsize first and the one who had encouraged Tom to do so as well. She was basically the reason Jordan wasn’t currently with them.

Except, Sonja, seeing his anger and hearing his demand, laughed. A bitterness that had been rising within her was allowed to escape. She couldn’t believe he had the damn nerve to demand answers out of her.

“I was stopping Capsize from dying,” She spat at him, disgusted that he thought there was anything wrong with that. He had witnessed the exact same thing as her, the pirate captain beginning to ignite. Yet somehow, he’d found it appropriate to physically stop her from helping. Seriously, what did he think she was going to say? “Rescuing Jordan isn’t worth her life.”

Tucker narrowed his eyes.

“We don’t know that she would’ve died,” He said, anger held between his teeth. “And any sacrifice is worth getting our friend back.”

Sonja’s typical friendly demeanour began to evaporate, leaving Tucker facing an anger he hadn’t before. She seemed to grow taller as she squared her shoulders, all but baring her teeth as she showed sharp canines. Her fur stood on end as she resisted the urge to tear his throat out.

“Is Capsize not also our friend?” She growled, leaning closer to him, making him crane his head up to meet her eyes.

“Oh, come on, you know that’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

Tucker attempted to back away but found himself pressed against a wall. He’d never seen Sonja act like this before. Not even in purges when they were completely free to let loose any anger they might have. She was acting more like an animal than a person. She was… He didn’t want to be stuck this close to her.

“Because it sounds like you think we should’ve let Capsize die to get Jordan back,” Her pupils appeared to be consuming her entire eyes as she struggled to keep herself from taking this further. This frustration had been bubbling under the surface for quite some time now, but normally she had the ability to keep herself calm. Today, though, today had been a tiring one. She just didn’t have the energy or the want to hold back anymore. “What? Is her life worth less than his because she isn’t a champion?”

“What? No, of course—”

“Really? Because that’s exactly what you seem to think,” They always acted like they, the champions of the gods, were the most important people in the universe. No one else mattered quite as much as them. Now apparently Tucker thought that other people’s lives were literally worth less than theirs. “We both know that Dianite isn’t going to kill Jordan, but it seems very clear that he wants Capsize dead. So, if you excuse me, I’m going to heal her up so he can’t finish the job.”

With that, she turned on her heel and stormed off. She was so fed up with dealing with this. The gods didn’t care about them equally, now apparently Tucker wasn’t pretending to either. This had to end. If she had to be the one to make an actual change then so be it.

For now, though, she had to help Capsize.

Martha felt as though she had been going mad.

Her father, a man who she had always known to be a level headed leader, had suddenly turned vicious. War had been declared on those who had always been their allies, their practices declared punishable by death. She had no idea if she feared more him being possessed or of his own right mind for how suddenly different he’d become.

She’d tried for weeks to talk him down from these decisions, to reason with him that this was a pointless war he was creating. Before all this, he would’ve listened to her. Now, he looked at her as though she was acting out of turn. Her objections went unlistened to. A man, terrified and begging for his life, was executed. She found herself utterly lost.

The only light in her confusion was Sonja. Her retainer, her confidant, her partner. The fox featured woman had been by her side throughout all this madness, assuring her that she hadn’t completely lost her mind. Though she had become quiet at the trial and execution, she remained by Martha’s side.

“We should leave. This place’ll turn to chaos when the Ianereans realise what he’s done.” Sonja had said looking at the corpse now strung up near the docks.

Despite not wanting to leave her home, to leave her father to cause even more destruction to his legacy, but she knew the writing was on the wall. This was not a safe place to stay.

“We’ll go in the morning.”

Her packing had been interrupted by the sound of a cannon’s shot rippling through the walls. Off by the docks, she could just spot through the darkness two Ianerean ships. Chaos had come sooner than either she or Sonja had expected.

Everyone on deck waited with baited breath. She would be well within her right to kill them both. Some might even celebrate. She might even enjoy it.

The fox had come rushing into her room, taking her by the hand and pulling her through the halls. Clearly she’d had an escape route planned for a while, but Martha couldn’t be mad at that. If only that providence had saved them.

They had made it to the streets, winding through alleys as she tried to ignore the cries of terror around them. Then, turning one corner, they found themselves facing two men. Clearly they were among the attackers, they wore the cloth of pirates and one was a zombie. The undead among Ianereans had been one of her father’s stated reasons for breaking ties with them.

Martha had expected them to attack immediately. Sonja clearly had too as she was shoved behind her as the fox drew her weapon. The two men had stared for a moment, mouths agape. She hadn’t gotten to learn the cause of their shock before arms came from behind to put her into a choke hold and knock her out.

She woke up what must’ve been hours later in a locked room on a ship. Not technically a cell, but it was certainly acting as one. Upon her wrist were cuffs made to restrain magic, leaving her stuck. Though she should’ve panicked about a great deal of things, the one that she did was where Sonja was.

She’d yelled out to her, as fruitless as she knew that was. Who entered the room instead was the zombie, looking at her with a grin.

“Finally awake, Miss Conway? Welcome aboard the Enderpearl where you’ll be enjoying our finest accommodations until we reach Ianerea. I’m sure our queen will be thrilled to greet you upon our arrival.”

☠☠☠

Sonja hadn’t intended to end up in this situation.

She had gone to Ruxomar years ago, when they were still allies with Ianerea and its council of pirate havens. With how peaceful times were, it seemed so unlikely that that was going to change. Then, by the time it did, she had already become enmeshed with Martha, and she wasn’t about to run away from someone she loved to save her own skin.

When the attack came, when she ran into Tucker and Tom holding a damn tracking spell and looking shocked beyond belief, she realised she shouldn’t have pushed her luck so long. She also should’ve known that Jordan would be with them, but it was the sort of day where her brain wasn’t working as it should.

Martha had been knocked out. She was never going to last long in a three against one fight, though she’d tried.

She’d woken up in a cell upon their ship, magic restricting cuffs locked upon her wrist so she couldn’t burn the vessel down. Martha was nowhere to be seen. The face greeting her upon waking was the thunderous one of Tucker.

“When did you become a fucking turncoat?” He all but spat at her. Had the bars not been separating them, she had no doubt he would’ve grabbed her by the collar. “We came to get you out of there and find you protecting one of the damn Conways!”

She had a thousand rebuttals, wishing to insist it was more complicated than that, but she knew each and every one would just make him angrier. What defense did she really have to give when Redbeard had been executed while she’d been at the side of the noble’s daughter? None that were actually reasonable. She was a far worse traitor than she already had been.

She hadn’t intended to break every promise she’d given on her leaving. She’d intended to come back every once in a while. She’d intended to keep up her relationships. She had, for a time. Letters had been sent, passions had been reignited whether that familiar ship had come to port in the city. But then she’d met Martha and, despite her best efforts, she had fallen for the noble.

“Please don’t hurt her,” She’d begged in the smallest voice.

He’d laughed, that vengefulness that she always knew he held sparking in his eyes.

“She’s going to kill you both and I’m not going to stop her.”

He’d left her. She was left alone for nearly the entire journey. Food and drink was delivered while she slept. Wherever Martha was, she was far enough away that Sonja couldn’t hear her. The only brief encounters she did have were boatsmen hurrying by, giving her dirty looks as they did.

She hadn’t lost her sense for how long the journey would take. She woke up the morning ready, unsurprised when Tucker finally made a reappearance to drag her up to the deck. She was thrown to her knees beside Martha, her love looking beyond terrified. She had no comfort to offer her, not even about to take her hand due to their binds, as a new figure strode up the gangplank onto the now docked ship.

There she was. The woman she had broke every promise to. The pirate queen of Ianerea. Captain Capsize.

☠☠☠

Capsize was vengeful.

Not a soul could blame her, nor did they mind the blazing anger leading them in this time of betrayal. She did not know what Spark Conway thought he was doing, but if he wished for a war, he would get one. He did not get to outlaw her people, her culture, without her striking back. However, the man already had two prisoners and them she needed back.

She knew she couldn’t afford to join the raid herself. If she knew Spark had one thing, it was brains. He would know an attack was coming and he would be waiting to capture her. She instead entrusted the job to two she trusted. Rupert would retrieve Redbeard, and Tom Sonja. Their crews were free to do as they wished. Attack, raid, loot. Just get their people home.

She had remained, attempting to avoid thinking of the rescue by aiding with training. She had duties she could throw herself into to stop her thoughts lingering. She was a leader, she could not afford to be distracted in times like these.

The letters had come a few days ahead of their return, the pigeons they were attached to oblivious to the horrid news they carried. She’d blinked at both, unwilling to believe a single word. But reality would not bend for her.

Rupert had arrived back first. She had walked aboard the ship slowly, knowing what awaited her, but still she was in no way prepared. Her brother’s corpse was pale and cold. A banshee’s wail had escaped from her as she fell upon him.

There was a chance, she knew, of being able to bring her back. Her goddess given gift to revive the dead may still work. But he was far longer dead than any she had brought back before. At best he would come back sickened and weak. At worst she might join him in the great beyond. She could bolster her chances by draining other magic but they couldn’t afford her destroying enchanted weapons.

His body had been taken, whether he would be prepared for revival or funeral she didn't yet hold the strength to decide. Rupert stayed by her side as she waited for the other ship’s return, a quiet comfort of shared grief.

As the hours passed, her anger started to fester. Her brother had been executed, strung up as an example. Meanwhile Sonja was sleeping with the enemy. She’d never stopped missing her, hating that her duties kept them apart, but she has apparently long since moved on.

Finally, Tom’s ship came to anchor. The undead captain had come to retrieve her, giving her hand a squeeze before leading her up the gangplank. The two women had been forced to kneel upon the deck and she had looked down upon them with more hatred than she’d ever held in her life.

The noble woman had the good sense to look scared. The traitor, meanwhile, attempted to gain her pity.

“Capsize, plea--”

Her cutlass had been at her throat in an instant, begging cries starting to come from the noble woman. She was deaf to it, far too angry at the sorrowful green eyes to hear anything but the pounding of blood in her ears. How dare this traitor act as though she owed her any mercy. She should stain the deck with her blood, but her hand shook as she remembered those moments of closeness, of the lingering kiss the last time they had parted.

However, a shine caught her eye. Not treasure, though it might as well have been. The cuffs on both women had the same purple glimmer, restraining the magic that flowed through their veins. Perhaps her Lady was shining down on this day after all.

She sheathed her cutlass as a smile grew on her face.

“Today is your lucky day. I have a need for magic. If my brother is revived without issue, I might consider sparing you. Take them to the preparation chamber.”

She strode away, feeling almost satisfied at Sonja’s yells begging her to spare the noble. She wanted to betray her for the family that killed her brother? Fine, she could join her new love in being drained to bring them back.

She was kinder than them. Her punishment wouldn’t kill them. They would only feel a fraction of the pain she had suffered. She wasn’t even separating them.

The night had crept in, a chill descending upon the desert. Capsize hardly noticed it. The shiver that had infected her was not one that could be cast away from the dancing campfire that had been lit before her or the blanket that had been haphazardly draped over her shoulders. It was the haunting result of death.

To be clear, she couldn’t say that she had at all liked the warden. He had been a positively detestable man. She would not miss him one bit. Still, there was something that left her sickened at seeing even a dreadful soul die.

She felt rather silly for having such a reaction. Her days had been spent around death, but only of the ancient variety. None of the mummies had been anything compared to the despairing death knell that Alister had unleashed.

She wished that she had allowed herself to be turned away. Perhaps if she had then the sight wouldn’t still be haunting her now hours later, though she sincerely doubted that she would’ve been so blessed.

Even had she turned away in the moment, she still would’ve had to face it in the time they took removing his corpse from the ruins. She imagined that seeing the mess his face had been left in would’ve been far more stomach churning had she not known the cause. Now, though her throat still tightened at the image replaying in her mind, she at least wasn’t allowing her imagination to make it all the worse.

Just when she thought she couldn’t appreciate Foxx anymore, she’d proven herself a level-headed individual once more. The soldier had, of course, already proven that fact with her actions on the boat, but truly, Capsize had never appreciated her more.

She had quite handedly taken charge, taking the body into her own hands to get it out of the underground. One of them obviously had to do so, they couldn’t leave his corpse down there to rot. However, the concept of having to move him was something that Capsize could hardly stomach. Yet Foxx had taken him into her arms with barely a grimace.

There hadn’t been a single misstep from the soldier as she’d balanced ensuring no more damage came to the body while making sure that the siblings continued to follow her. She never gave so much as an impression of being unsure, which was something Capsize greatly needed in that moment. Well, what she had truly wanted was for the soldier to take her by the hand and not let go until they were safely above ground. That thought, however, had been a foolish one that she had done her best to ignore.

She had rather feared they would need to raise the body up to the surface by their rope, as though he was an object to be hoisted rather than a human being. Had it been necessary she of course wouldn’t have objected, but it had seemed rather indignant. Perhaps that was precisely what he deserved but…

Well, it hadn’t ended up mattering. The foreign lot had cleared out the ruins’ main entrance which allowed them an exit on foot rather than a struggled climb. That saved them rather a lot of time, not that they had done much with it.

Miss Foxx had escorted them back to their little camp before going off to deal with the body. She had been the one to drape the blanket over her shoulders. Those calloused fingers had squeezed her in a comforting gesture that then lingered a touch too long. That moment of softness was still lingering in her mind, though she half thought she had imagined it entirely. She was, after all, clawing for any sort of distraction.

The empty quiet of her surroundings was doing very little in that regard. The shallow flames of the campfire were hardly an enticing enough sight to stop her thoughts from wandering. Nor had Redbeard offered any distraction.

She tried not to be too put out by his silence. After all, he’d had far worse experiences with death than herself. She could hardly imagine the memories this had dragged up. Indeed, he looked rather shellshocked. Had his flask not been bone dry, Capsize knew he’d be well on his way to drunkenness right now. She could hardly judge him for it. She’d quite happily take a drink herself if one was available.

Her thoughts played with so many merciless realities with only the quiet crackles to distract from them. As much as she tried not to dwell on them, she never was good at ignoring questions that came to mind. Though she’d hardly call herself curious about this particular incident, the echoing wonderings consumed her all the same.

“What do you think killed him?” She managed to ask despite how tight her throat felt.

Isn’t that obvious? Her thoughts immediately mocked. Himself. The warden had taken his own life. They had all watched him do so. Yet, it was as though her brain couldn’t accept that as the actual cause. It just didn’t seem within reason for a man to become so crazed in, what? A matter of hours?

Perhaps that spoke more to her own naivety than reality. Perhaps this was simply something that happened on expeditions that she had failed to consider because of her lack of experience. Completely possible, she could admit with a bitter taste, but she struggled to wholly believe it a possibility. Something about the death just struck her as wrong.

“Struck down by God, maybe,” Red said, not taking his eyes away from the fire. He spoke with such a hoarse voice that Capsize had to swallow. He seemed to genuinely believe it was a possibility.

It wasn’t, she reminded herself. If God did indeed exist, he would have far better things to do than smiting one particularly annoying man. However, that thread of logic hardly mattered with how harrowed the sight had left both siblings. Though Capsize had attempted to tell herself that the unnatural appearance had come from her own lack of experience with such things. That was harder to believe when Red seemed just as scared by the death as she was.

“Have you ever…?” She swallowed that question down, regretting that she had voiced it at all. However, she had suppressed the thought too late. The intention of her question was already clear.

“I’ve seen men go mad before,” Red responded in that same hollow tone. He looked so small, shrinking into himself as he continued watching the campfire. His gaze was far off, likely his mind alongside it. “I’ve seen men… But he had a gun… There was no need to.”

Capsize bit the inside of her lip, chewing upon it. Her big mouth. She had no idea how to fix this. Was there anyway to? It wasn’t as though she could reassure him with answers she didn’t have.

With little idea of anything she should do, she extended her hand and took hold of one of her brother’s. His grip was immediate and tight, as though he thought the gesture of comfort might retreat should he give it any chance. If that was his assessment, it couldn’t be further from the truth. Capsize needed this comfort just as much as he did.

It was this position that Sonja found the siblings in when she came back up to the camp. A petty person would’ve taken the opportunity to tell the woman that she had warned her of this. On some days, with some people, she might’ve been that person, but right now, she couldn’t be. Being an ass when the two looked so lost was beyond unnecessary.

She wondered if their reaction was the more reasonable one than her own lack of one. It wasn’t as though she lacked guilt for what had happened on her watch, but it wasn’t as though she felt bad for the man’s fate. Had anyone deserved a horrid end, it was that louse of a man. Still, maybe that quiet, shocked stillness was how one was supposed to react to witnessing such a horror. Maybe she was just too used to blood and grime that she couldn’t react normally… Or maybe it’d hit her later.

She approached the camp as gently as she could. The last thing she wanted at this moment was to scare the two as she appeared to have gained a habit for doing. When she entered the camp though her movement was quiet as it typically was, she entered without startling either. As she took a seat by her things, the reaction instead was merely Capsize looking up.

Capsize didn’t know what she wanted the soldier to say. What could one say in a situation like this? There was hardly anything she could think that would be a reassurance. Yet still, she waited for anything Miss Foxx might have to say. Surely, she would have some distraction to offer. At the very least, she thought the soldier’s voice would be a comfort.

Unfortunately, she had little to give but further reality, which wasn’t any sort of good news.

“We aren’t the only ones who've had a misadventure today,” She nodded over to the other camp below them. Even with the distance between them, the noise of activity was audible. A low hum, like the outside of a bar. They seemed far more alive than their group. “Three of their diggers died.”

She was still rolling the encounter with the other crew about in her head. She’d thought they’d all be avoiding each other after they’d nearly all shot each other. She certainly had no intention of playing friendly with them anymore after that. Yet Syndicate had wandered over with the same demeanour as a lost puppy to ask what she was doing with the body. Despite what she thought they deserved, she couldn’t leave him to his own devices.

If she’d thought the warden’s body was a mess, she had no idea what she’d call the three corpses from the other crew. She could hardly imagine the horrible end they’d met, even as the man had explained precisely the cause. Not exactly the commentary she wanted when giving four bodies a shallow grave.

“How did they…?” Capsize swallowed again, attempting to shake off her nerves. “Was it similar?”

That was the most important question. As much as she didn’t think what had afflicted the warden could’ve been a disease or parasite with how suddenly onset it had been, if three others had had similar incidents… Well, then they’d need to be worried about it potentially spreading.

Foxx gave a curt shake of her head.

“No. From what they said they triggered some kind of trap,” She grimaced as she thought back to the remains. She’d have thought them days old if not for the fact that no one could’ve been here so recently before them. “Their expert said something about pressurized salt acid.”

A horror descended upon Capsize’s features.

“Oh, those poor sods,” She muttered, skin crawling as she pictured such horrid last moments. There was no relief gained from their ends being different to the warden’s.

“Maybe this place is cursed,” Redbeard said, only audible due to the quiet of the night. Every awful story he’d heard of this place was replaying in his mind. What better explanation was there for so many deaths to happen within these ruins?

This lament was finally enough to jolt Capsize from her state.

“Oh, we’re letting this push us into ridiculousness,” She scoffed. She sat up straight, looking her proper self for the first time in several hours.

She understood why Red had fallen into thinking it possible. If the myths didn’t seem to have any truth to them, they wouldn’t have been created in the first place. Mysterious deaths had a penchant for getting people to create nonsensical stories to explain them. As much as it was convenient, she couldn’t let them fall into such thinking.

As if to mock her, a wind rippled across the camp, threatening the flames of the campfire. Red shivered then looked to her as if that had proven his point rather than it simply being ill-timed weather. She pressed her lips together. “No, those stories are just that. These grounds aren’t any more cursed than any other tomb. You’ve touched plenty of apparently cursed artifacts and no horrific fate has befallen you, has it?”

Nearly every tomb held some warning of the great harm that would befall any who entered. None of them had proven true or else there wouldn’t be a field of archaeology in the first place. She wasn’t about to let this incident, however horrific and puzzling it might be, consume her brother to the point that he genuinely believed them doomed. That’d only make it likelier that something bad would happen to him as people held the tendency to make happen what they already believed would.

“Well…” Red started, stretching out the word with a smile upon his face. That hollowness that had been consuming him had if not disappeared, faded significantly. He seemed, just as Capsize, to have returned to his usual self. “I have been rather unlucky since touching that… You know, that whatsit.”

He gestured with his hand, as though that would make it any clearer what he meant. Capsize gave the smallest hint of a laugh.

“Precisely, it had no effect on you whatsoever,” Her smirk at his mock offense was a gleam amongst the darkness. Though nothing had truly changed, everything felt just a tad closer to normalcy.

As Capsize turned, she realised that Miss Foxx was looking at her with an expression she struggled to read. It certainly didn’t seem judging, though it also didn’t look approving. It was level, almost trying intentionally to elicit no reaction. Though, that was rather a pointless exercise. The scholar could never remain neutral when those green eyes were on her.

“You don’t believe in curses, huh?” The soldier questioned, again her tone hardly readable. At the very least, she sounded more curious than anything else.

Capsize became quite more relaxed as her thoughts were allowed to focus upon something normal, something she understood.

“No, not at all,” She replied. While she could appreciate how the stories had come to be and the insights that they allowed into those who had created them, she didn’t take stock of curses any more than she believed the fanciful stories told by men three drinks deep. “If I can see it, if I can touch it, then I’ll believe it real. As it stands, curses are no more real than the fiends in a penny dreadful.”

“Huh,” Sonja hummed in response. She wasn’t quite sure what answer she had expected. She knew from their brief conversation on the boat that the woman didn’t believe this place was evil. She believed in stuff that followed logic and reason which made sense enough. It was typically fools who believed otherwise and Capsize certainly wasn’t one.

Still, she wondered what it would take to get her to believe. If that face reappeared in the sand, would she be made a believer? Sonja hoped to God that she didn’t ever find out. Whatever devil she had witnessed here three years ago, she wanted it the hell away from Capsize.

Her pursed lips and short response made the scholar curious. Perhaps it should’ve been a sign for her to leave the soldier to her thoughts. Whatever her beliefs, they were her own business, and it would be frankly rude of her to question them but that wasn’t what she wished to do. She simply found herself curious about their guide’s point of view on these things.

“Do you believe in them, Miss Foxx?” She asked in a tone that Sonja had become accustomed to through this journey. That quiet questioning that latched upon her and made her wish to say anything to keep those beautiful brown eyes on her.

However, she didn’t quite know how to answer the question. She couldn’t deny that she thought there might be some truth in the legends of Hamunaptra. Before her own experience here, she had thought the opposite. She hadn’t believed in the treasure her garrison had come here for. Even now, she didn’t believe there was a massive treasure trove resting somewhere beneath her feet.

However, she couldn’t exactly disbelieve the idea of curses with what she had witnessed. She didn’t know what had caused that face, but she knew it was real, sure as anything she had ever seen. There was something down there just waiting to get out, she believed that much. But other paranormal stuff, the occult? That’s she wasn’t sure if she did.

“I believe in being prepared,” She said, reaching for her guns to check over them. Her itching sureness that something bad was to happen had only gotten worse since their arrival. She’d missed the warning signs today. She wasn’t going to risk doing so again.

Capsize looked towards the organised stash of weapons with a certain curiosity. A cautious one, of course. She knew they were dangerous. Nonetheless, she did hold it. She shuffled a bit closer to the soldier.

“Can I perhaps—?”

“No,” Sonja cut through without even needing to hear her finish her sentence.

Capsize scrunched her nose, not scoffing, but certainly making her annoyance known.

“Why should I be the only one without a gun?” She questioned. At the beginning of this she certainly hadn’t cared about her lack of a weapon, but after having been stuck near defenceless in one firefight and the near beginning of another, she’d rather prefer something to avoid relying upon the others to defend her.

Miss Foxx looked up at her, with a look that Capsize could only think of as amusement. Her smile was toying, making her feel that rising annoyance that made her wish to argue her point. Was it really so laughable for her to wish to borrow a weapon?

However, unlike most times when she found herself facing someone who was quite obviously doubting her abilities, this wasn’t something she was trained in. If the soldier didn’t wish to allow her a weapon, she really had little room to object. Still, though, it wasn’t as though this was her first time bringing this idea up.

In a rather more quiet voice than either of those she was with had expected, she continued. “You said you would teach me.”

She tried her level best to not sound vulnerable as she currently felt. Did Miss Foxx even remember? It had been an offer given during their travel through the desert, perhaps for the soldier all that conversation had blurred together. Though Capsize tried to dismiss that as she had certainly seemed like she was listening, it was hard to remove such anxieties.

Sonja saw the nervousness with a guilty tug on her heart. Why did this woman have such an effect on her?

“I did and I will,” She said, though she really had no idea when she’d be able to make good on her offer. While they were out here, it seemed unlikely their focus would stray from investigating the ruins for a shooting lesson. Then afterwards, she couldn’t imagine the siblings sticking around her, as much as that idea had started to hurt her heart to think about. But hey, maybe if the woman was serious as she appeared to be, she’d be able to cling to this for a little longer.

She gave an amused smile. “But you don’t know how to use them yet. I’m not giving you a weapon that you don’t know how to use, I’d be responsible if you do something stupid.”

Capsize frowned, attempting to formulate an argument that meant that wasn’t true, but found herself coming up empty. The fact that she didn’t know how to use a weapon was why she’d asked Foxx about them in the first place, and it would obviously be irresponsible to hand her a gun when she didn’t know the first thing about them. She supposed, in this instance, she was going to have to trust Foxx’s judgement and hope that her protection would remain more than enough.

“We could see if the dearly departed left you his gun,” Red interrupted, shaking a bag that she hadn’t seen the warden take off even once. She nearly sighed at the sight. When on earth had he taken that? Really, did his thievery have no boundaries?

Her unhidden exasperation only grew his smile. She could already hear his numerous excuses that would spill out should she question why precisely he had taken it.

We can hardly afford to waste supplies. He’d say as if she might believe for a moment that he’d had altruistic motivations for looting the man’s corpse. Then he might question as to why his theft of the dead was wrong when they had come out here in the first place to explore the city of the dead for its treasure.

That argument, should she allow it to happen, would go on for far too long and cause her a great headache while her brother would get a great deal of entertainment. She was in no mood for that tonight. So, despite her annoyance for him taking it in the first place, she responded with nothing more than a roll of her eyes.

Redbeard wasn’t about to let her lack of a reaction stop his fun. The warden must’ve been protective of this thing for a reason. He’d been curious about it from the beginning. Now the man was no longer here to stop him, he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity by having it buried with him.

Capsize turned back to Miss Foxx, fully intending to continue to ask after when they could start on the gun lessons. Except, not five seconds after she had turned around, she was jolted into whipping her attention back to her brother as he unleashed a pained yelp.

“Red!” She exclaimed. Every terrible possibility flashed through her mind at once, each leading to the horrible fate of the warden being passed onto her brother. Her heart pounded within her throat, the few moments of terror leaving her nauseated. She was too thankful to be embarrassed when she saw him sitting fine, looking annoyed at the smallest of cuts on his finger.

“Bloody broken glass,” He muttered, looking down at the bag as though it was a creature that had intentionally bit him.

Capsize released a breath, her heart beginning to slow. She was far too on edge. It wasn’t good for her to be leaping to such wild conclusions. They had enough to worry about without allowing her imagination to get the better of her, but good sense could come in the morning. For tonight, what was the real harm in worrying?

With his offence towards the object somewhat diminished as the pain faded, Red opened the bag. His eyes lit up, a great smile upon his face.

“He was holding out on us!” He exclaimed as he pulled from it a near full bottle of alcohol. The head of the bottle was chipped, the source of the wound he had gained, but he could forgive it for the pain it’d caused, if only due to the elation it had now gifted him. His smile only grew as he examined the label. “This is good whiskey too.”

Capsize shook her head despite her smile. Of course, he had managed to find booze in the middle of nowhere. The world was never going to allow him to remain sober for any extended period of time. Though, the timing did seem rather opportune. Frankly, they could all do with a drink tonight.

Immediately, Red went to uncork it. He needed the sweet relief of drunkenness, to fog his thoughts of the memories that had been brought forth. The potential of a good time, though, was cut off as familiar bangs rippled through the air.

Gunshots sounded from the other camp, quickly accompanied by panicked yells being carried upon the wind. All three had their attention pulled, Sonja jolting to her feet to whip around and look down at their rivals. Invading their camp were at least a dozen attackers on horseback. Though technically they were outnumbered, the element of surprise was doing its work.

Sonja held no requirement to aid the ones being attacked. If anything, if they dropped off the map, their group would have a better chance of getting the relic they were searching for. Except, if the attackers finished off that lot, they would surely come after the two she was protecting. There wasn’t a chance in hell she was risking that.

“Stay here,” She warned as she grabbed a stick of dynamite from her supplies. With her revolvers already in their holsters, she didn’t feel the need to waste time grabbing anything else. Without any further warning or preparation, she took off towards the action, just hoping the siblings would listen to her.

Capsize held absolutely no intention of doing so. The moment the soldier was running, she was upon the weapon stash. She wasn’t sitting idle and waiting for this to blow over.

Her hands landed upon a rifle, her decision made by simple chance. She slung the strap over her shoulder.

“Capsize, she did say to—” Red attempted to stop his sister from making the stupid decision she was clearly about to. However, she had never been one to listen to him, and she was not about to start now. With no regard for her own safety, Capsize dashed off after Foxx and towards the battle flickering to life below.