Act 2 - 3
Conversations Around a Campfire
Ao3 Version: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61868641/chapters/160028077
The night sky stretches far above the adventurers' warm orange campfire, and the moon casts a pale light, barely illumnating any solid surface it reaches.
Gwen is sprawled against a chopped trunk of oak, stretching out her arms and still catching her breath. Her white horse stands nearby, quietly chewing on what little grass grows between the cracks of the mesa. Sam sits cross-legged, still composed and with his sword resting against his knee. Arthur leans forward slightly, resting his arms on his legs, fixing his eyes on the flames, and Sandie is the last to sit down, leaving her pickaxe inside the alcove she has dug, sighing as she finally allows herself to relax.
For a long moment, no one speaks. The fire pops and crackles, and the flames become a luminous spectacle in their eyes, until Gwen breaks at last the silence with a groan, stretching dramatically her arms.
GWEN: “I can’t believe we’re still alive after all that mess.”
SANDIE (Chuckling, nudging a stray rock with her boot): “You sound surprised.”
GWEN (Rolling her eyes): “Well, yeah! First, it’s the heat, then the mobs, then the damn sandstorm, and then everything all at once! I thought we were dead meat.”
ARTHUR (Smirking slightly): “I didn’t. I had faith in each and every one of you. After all, union makes strenght.”
GWEN (Glancing at him, raising a brow): “Pffft, okay, Hero.”
Arthur grins but says nothing. For a while, they simply sit in the fire’s warmth, absorbing the moment of peace. Then, Arthur’s gaze drifts toward the horizon—the way they came.
ARTHUR: “You know… this reminds me of home.”
SANDIE (Raising an eyebrow): “Home?”
Arthur nods, his expression momentarily distant.
ARTHUR (Looking at the fire, contemplative): “Back in Squid Coast, me and some colleagues used to make campfires like this one. We’d sit around them at night, just like now.”
SANDIE (Surprised): “Wait, Squid Coast? I thought you meant the island!”
Arthur chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck.
ARTHUR: “No, I mean that town from far away. We didn’t have many chances to do this for a long time because of the Arch-Illager.”
GWEN: “Yeah. You eventually kicked his butt. I remember you telling me that.”
ARTHUR: “I would not put it in that way… but it is true that we put an end to his schemes. And after that… nothing really happened. No Illager raids, no monsters during the day, no dangers… just nothing at all.
Gwen and Sandie narrow their eyes.
GWEN: “And the ruckus the fragments of the Orb of Dominance were making?”
SANDIE: “And the big-headed, super-overgrown Endermen that were showing off on the Overworld after that? Doesn’t all that sound interesting?”
Arthur shrugs.
ARTHUR: “I did not take part in any of that. I was taking a break after the Arch-Illager ordeal and trying to figure out what to do with my life after it was uprooted when he first attacked Squid Coast. Maybe some of those colleagues of mine handled those matters while I was doing so, or maybe someone else did. At face value, it sounded interesting, yes, but all of those matters were quickly resolved before I could act on them. That is why I said that ‘nothing really happened’. I meant it from my perspective.”
SANDIE: “So uh… what did you do? How did you end up on the island?”
ARTHUR: “I started to like taking journeys to far away lands and going out for adventure. It might sound selfish or even irresponsible coming from me, since I became the hero of the continent but… I never saw myself that way.”
SANDIE: “Eh?”
ARTHUR: “ I only became one because I made the right choice, was in the right place and in the right time. To put it briefly… I was lucky.”
SAM: “Then why did you set out to stop him?”
Arthur exhales and takes a breath before explaining his background.
ARTHUR: When the Arch-Illager attacked Squid Coast, most of my friends were enslaved and taken away to various locations of the continent, so I took several treks to rescue them. I suppose it does sound heroic, but I just wanted to bring them back, I was acting more out of desperation than heroism. Once I managed to free them from the Arch-Illager’s thrall, we devised a long-term plan to sabotage him. We never intended to fight him directly, but to weaken him so that he may never lay harm to us or anyone else. None of us were really experts in combat, so we decided to play safe but, to our surprise, it worked out more effectively than we expected. We soon noticed that our actions had a much bigger impact than we originally thought. Every blow we struck to him exposed and weakened him significantly—his resources dwindled and his armies of undead and illagers were decimated. Eventually, we realized we could end it for good, so… we stormed his fortress. It was the riskiest move we had ever made, but by then, he was vulnerable. We pressed the advantage and… the rest is history”
SAM: “What happened after that?”
ARTHUR: “Our victory over the Arch-Illager inspired many other people to become heroes, just as I did. And that is precisely why I left. With so many people wanting to be the next hero of the continent, I was certain someone would eventually take the mantle that I unknowingly took first. I realized that the continent would still be defended even if I departed, so… that is what I did. I took a journey through the Nether, so that my exit point would take me… far away.”
Sandie and Gwen both look at him in disbelief.
SANDIE: “And you left your friends back there?”
ARTHUR: “We weren’t exactly friends. We were only a group of people with the same goals. After that, we went our separate ways, back to our previous lives... or at least, we tried. And as for the Nether part… it was an improvised course of action, and by then, I was confident enough to travel through it for an extended period of time. You and Sam do that on a daily basis, don’t you?”
SANDIE: “Yeah, but our routes are short! You basically ran an marathon!”
ARTHUR (Smirking faintly): “Maybe.”
SANDIE (Curious, turning to Gwen): “And what about you? What’s your story? I mean, you two know each other, but…”
Gwen tilts her head back, staring at the sky for a moment.
GWEN (Casual): “Not as fancy as Nether adventures, let alone heroic.” (She sighs, then shrugs.) “I grew up on the western island. I was just a farmer. A regular, boring one. I liked horses, I trained them, and that was about it.”
Arthur glances at her knowingly.
ARTHUR (Smirking): “I was also a farmer back on Squid Coast. Besides, you forgot some details.”
Gwen rolls her eyes.
GWEN: “Okay, fine. Eventually, I learned how to fight because, well, I had to. Then I met this idiot.” (She gestures toward Arthur.) “And somehow, we went from two idiots with swords to full-fledged commanders building an army.”
SANDIE: “An army?”
GWEN (Shrugging, grinning slightly): “Yeah. I mean, we had to, right? We have to guard the island, and if those sharks are any indication…”
ARTHUR: “It hasn’t been an easy fight, I must admit. Even if they played us for fools...”
Sandie leans back, stretching her arms behind her head. The conversation lulls, the warmth of the fire settling into their bones. Then, Arthur turns to Sandie and Sam.
ARTHUR: “What about you two?”
SANDIE: “(Smiling slightly) Oh, us? Well… we met each other by chance! I was just exploring while I just… found him! And we eventually got along and started to travel together to… wherever we wanted!”
Sandie gives a sheepish smile to Arthur and Gwen.
SANDIE: “But uh… well. If you want to know about my background… I was just a little girl from a little village who decided to explore the world, just like you, Arthur! Well, except from the part where the Arch-Illager ruined my life. And looking back… I think my life so far has been, like… perfect! Perfect parents, perfect youth, perfect everything! But yeah, I also got bored and decided to just see what’s out there. And that’s when I met Sam. He’s so cool and chill and put together… and that’s how we became besties! It was like an ‘opposite attracts’ case!”
Everyone listens to Sandie with visible enthusiasm, all except Sam, who remains as unreadable as usual.
SANDIE: “He already knows all of this because I told him from before… and because I’m, like… so talkative and extrovert that I don’t even shut up, even underwater! (Chuckles). But now that I think about it… (locks her eyes on Sam) I don’t think he ever told me anything about him.”
Everyone looks at Sam intensely.
GWEN: “Your turn, Sam.”
Sam exhales quietly, bringing his left hand up to cover his mouth while his right arm crosses over his chest, gripping his elbow in a pensive stance.
SAM: “How do I put this…”
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The night sky stretches far above the Selachid Order’s frigid cyan campfire, and the moon casts a pale reflection upon the ocean waters, barely iluminating them.
The galleon looms over the docks, rocking its wooden hull with the few tides of the night, although barely visible across the small island in which the sharks reside. Inside, the Whale Shark and Captain of the Selachid Order -Damasco- remains occupied with his own affairs, secluded in one of the galleon’s quarters.
Near the shore, Boecio walks deeper into the sea. His massive frame slips progressively beneath the water until only the occasional ripple of waves hints at his presence.
The other members of the Order find themselves huddled around it and speaking in hushed tones.
MARCELA (Arms crossed, watching the flames): "So… what do you think?~"
Álvaro leans against a crate, adjusting his golden eyewear slightly.
SANCHO (Casual, but skeptical): "About?"
Marcela scoffs, flicking a small piece of burning wood into the fire.
MARCELA: "The ‘negotiations’ at the western island. You saw how they acted. Rodrigo was stumbling over his words like the dumbass he is, and Ancor was making things up on the fly~."
Carlita, sitting next to Marcela with her knees tucked close to her, tilts her head slightly.
CARLITA (Softly): "M-maybew it’z twrue?"
Marcela lets out a dry chuckle, shaking her head.
MARCELA: "Oh, Carlita, you’re adorable~. (Muttering) Perhaps too much for your own good."
ÁLVARO (Flatly): "Anyhow, we cannot really prove it, but you could see it all over Rodrigo’s face… and sword. Especially his sword."
Sancho, who has remained silent until now, finally speaks. His tone is as calculating as ever.
SANCHO: "Hmm. Of course they are hiding something."
Marcela leans back slightly, a grimace plays on her mouth, revealing some of her teeth.
MARCELA: "And yet they have the audacity to ask for money! Even after we got that hunk of a ship! (Points at the galleon at the end of the dock)."
Álvaro nods, adjusting the wrench on his belt.
ÁLVARO: "That truly grinds my gears. It’s not like they’re starving anyway! They act like we’re some mercenary company, not a crew."
MARCELA (Chuckling): “Grind your gears. Funny choice of words, Handyman.~”
ÁLVARO: “Don’t start pressing people’s buttons, will you?”
MARCELA (Laughing): “Ah, hah, hah! First your gears and now your buttons? Why, it almost sounds like you’re saying it on purpose!”
SANCHO (Firm): “Marcela.”
MARCELA (Feigning innocence): “Hey, at least let me have some fun.”
SANCHO: “Not at the expense of others.”
Marcela sights and gives no answer to Sancho. Carlita’s emerald eyes flick between them with a slightly uneasy expression.
CARLITA (Muttering): "I down’t cawre aboud za money, zhough…"
Marcela raises an eyebrow, shifting her weight.
MARCELA (Smiling slightly): "Oh, Carlita... it’s not like you need money anyways! You’re too young to be asking for it, you know that?"
SANCHO: "Hmm. What about you?"
Marcela’s expression tightens for a fraction of a second. She exhales and leans forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand.
MARCELA: "Hah. You know where to hit, don’t you?”
Sancho doesn’t give any immediate answer. He locks his eyes into Marcela, narrowing them.
MARCELA: “Alright, fine. I did need it. But only for a while. Back when I was a performer, they caught me pilfering a little extra from some patrons, and suddenly I had to get the hell out. The rest is history."
Álvaro’s gaze softens slightly, but he remains matter-of-fact.
ÁLVARO: "Not all of us ended up here out of desperation, though. Some of us chose this life."
MARCELA (Smirking): "Sancho and you."
ÁLVARO: "I joined because it felt like a huge opportunity. I had a strange fondness of tinkering with ships, and Damasco needed someone with my competences."
SANCHO: “Hmm. We knew each other way before the Order was formed. He recruited me because he needed a crew. That is how I became the first mate.”
CARLITA: “And he rewcrwuited me becauwze I was a good medic!”
MARCELA: “Yes, mi amor~. (Puts her hands on Carlita’s cheeks and squeezes them gently) And because you’re also a good girl, aren’t you?~.”
Sancho and Álvaro can’t help but grin, seeing Marcela and Carlita’s interaction between them.
ÁLVARO: “And then… there 's Boecio and Lázaro.”
MARCELA: “Ugh… those weirdos. I don’t even know why he let them in. Maybe you do (Stares at Sancho), considering how close you and Damasco are to each other.”
Sancho sighs and proceeds to explain himself, but is abruptly cut off by Carlita.
CARLITA: "Oh, oh! Sawncho, Sawncho!"
SANCHO (Bamboozled): "Uh... yes, Carla?"
CARLITA: “Why dow youw cawll the Cawptain 'Dawmasco' if hiws name is Pewdro?”
SANCHO (Sighs and turns to Carlita): “Because... most of the people who have met him love his second name more than his first. Pedro is a common name among the shark civilization, while Damasco... not so much. Eventually it became an unwritten rule to call him like that. Damasco.”
CARLITA: “Oooooh... now zhat youw zay it... Dawmasco iz a cool name!”
SANCHO (Reluctant): “Yes... yes it is. (Remains silent for a moment) Now... where was I?"
ÁLVARO: “About him letting Boecio and Lázaro in.”
SANCHO: “Oh. Yes, thanks Álvaro. Now... he saw... potential in both of them. Boecio is, without doubt, the strongest member of the Order, but he is placed fourth because his pace hinders him significantly, compared to, let us say... Rodrigo. I must say, however, that he picked the right shark for the role he was intended to take in the Order. And as for Lázaro… well, Damasco noticed that he was a walking pile of secrets and sensitive information. He realized that he could listen to any private conversation without anyone noticing, which made him a perfect asset for espionage. But he cannot make it past the ninth place because of his erratic behavior, lack of discipline and deficient combat capabilities. All he excels at is stabbing objects and eavesdropping on people.”
MARCELA: “Ugh, sometimes I don’t know what criteria does he follow for picking people into this circus. Or even why he decided to pull this ranking system.”
CARLITA: “Buwt… youw’re like fawmily fowr me, you know?”
ALVARO (Turns to Carlita): “Now that she mentions it… I also see this group like that. A family.”
MARCELA: “Yeah, I’ve started to see it like that! That’s why I was wondering why we have a ranking system if we are.”
SANCHO: “Because... when Damasco established the Selachid Order, he wanted a fully fledged and well organized crew as soon as possible, hence the ranking system. But sometimes he acts, let us say... out of hurry, and neglects the members' needs, as if they are merely an extension of his will rather than people with their own objectives and aspirations. Besides, not everyone here views the Order as a family.”
MARCELA: “Like the meat grinder trio.”
SANCHO: “Indeed. And as for the recruitment 'criteria'... they tend to be arbitrary. If he saw that someone had solid potential, he recruited them in a heartbeat. It also applies to his ranking system—he says that is based on merits, but I know him well enough to conclude that those criteria are not exactly set in stone, meaning that he is suspectible to bend or even break his own rules if need be.”
MARCELA: “Right…”
Marcela remains silent for a while, processing all the information Sancho has laid bare before her and the other sharks.
MARCELA: “Anyway, it’s definitely better than my previous way of life, I'll give you that. But it would be better if the others had some manners.”
SANCHO (Narrows his eyes): “Do we not?”
MARCELA (Nervous): “Uh, I mean, yes! You do! Most of you do but… I mean…”
ÁLVARO: “You mean Lázaro.”
MARCELA: “Ugh… I’m such an open book. It’s like he said earlier, he’s constantly eavesdropping on people, but I think he’s doing it to me especially!”
SANCHO: “Hmm. You can tell me if he’s bothering you. If he doesn’t get the message through his skull…”
MARCELA: “Ah… no, it’s… it’s nothing. I guess… but I appreciate the thought.”
Marcela remains silent for a few seconds before she snaps out of the blue.
MARCELA: “Oh! That reminds me… I overheard your little conversation with Damasco.”
SANCHO (Snapping back to her): “What?”
Álvaro and Carlita starte him intensely.
ÁLVARO: “You talked? About what?”
Sancho doesn’t answer immediately. His brows knit together slightly, and his usually composed demeanor is suddenly tinged with reluctance.
SANCHO: “Hmm. You were not supposed to know about it.”
MARCELA: “Well, too bad, because I do.~”
He still remains silent, seemingly unable to process the fact that Marcela knows about his previous conversation with Damasco. Marcela’s playful demeanor suddenly changes to a stern demand for information.
MARCELA: “You know, Sancho… if we’re on the same boat, then the least you could do is tell us what this Sclera ordeal is all about. If you've told us so much about Damasco...”
CARLITA (Softly, pleading): “Pwetty pleaaaaase? Cawn you tewll us?”
SANCHO: “Very well. It was indeed about our current mission. It has to do with what I said earlier, about him acting out of hurry.”
ÁLVARO: “Is that so?”
MARCELA: “Pray tell~.”
Sancho exhales quietly, crossing his arms in a pensive stance.
SANCHO: “How do I put this…”
