Tethers of Hopes – Chapter 1

A sailor; a handsome and dashing gentleman, courageously trekking into the unknown onboard his stalwart vessel, and braving all sorts of dangers that the cruel, watery mistress may throw at him.

Few archetypes are as deeply ingrained as this one.

As far as many would care to see, the image of the adventuring sailor has been as romanticized as that of the noble knight rescuing the distressed princess. However, the era of knights is now long gone, while the man of the sea remains; his legend as unchanging as the waters themselves. And many bright-eyed youngsters have pictured that image in their minds as they happily applied for the Imperial Navy, dreaming of daring adventures, fantastic voyages, and exotic ladies for companionship.

Very few live long enough to wake up from the dream, even less quickly enough to be able to get away from it, and mayhaps the rarest of the rare are those of actual accomplishment; those that manage to stand tall enough to be noticed, to be given some respect, and a chance to prove themselves worthy of leaving the cage they willingly walked into.

Almost none will realize that outside the cage, there is only another cage, albeit a bit larger, and with slightly more gilded bars.

~~~

Quill, inkwell, paper, sign. Quill, inkwell, paper, sign.

He had signed so many times in a row already that it felt as automatic as breathing, and as reflexive as reloading a cannon. He couldn’t help but think that if his hand was sawn off from his body, it would keep repeating that action again and again. Clad in an officer’s uniform and an expression more fit for a statue, the rest of his body remained stationary as his hand moved to sign the paper on his desk.

”Midshipman Hale, sir!” came a voice from across the office, which was spartan, containing no more than two dusty gas lamps, a shabby carpet, and the working desk itself.

”Yes?” the man behind the desk replied flatly, barely moving his mouth. He did not bother checking around the stacked papers to view the newcomer, or to lift his eyes.

The man at the door, clad in the attire of a simple seaman, practically skipped across the room as he put a tall stack of papers on top of the already towering pile on its left corner, making sure to balance it so it wouldn’t fall as the ship swayed. ‘’Some more documents from the harbor, requesting an officer’s signature for all the expenditures and costs of relocating those civilian vessels.”

”Thank you, Higgins.” The words came out sounding slow and wooden, as if he were a poorly controlled ventriloquist’s puppet. “I will process those as well.”

Hadrian had not voiced a dismissal, didn’t think it was necessary to waste the effort. It was inferred nonetheless. Higgins, however, remained standing in front of the worn desk in silence for several awkward moments before the sound of him clearing his throat filled the narrow room.

”Uhm, sir… may I speak freely?” the sailor asked as he peeked around the stacks of paper to face him.

”Do.” His reply couldn’t be more monosyllabic.

”M… maybe you should rest, Hadrian. You’ve been signing papers nonstop. Since your promotion, you’re looking as pale and lifeless as a drowned corpse,” Higgins said as he scratched his head.

”Sleep is for off-duty time, Higgins. Although I appreciate the concern.” Replied the Midshipman as his eyes blinked slowly; like a tarry swab moving across a salt-stained deck.

”Just be careful; you’re the first of us to get recognized, so everyone’s looking up to you. If you fall asleep right after your promotion, there’s no word of what could happen. ”

Hadrian didn’t reply. Higgins could peddle all the advice he wanted as long as he soon left him in peace to finish working. The door closed a moment later and it was just him and the lamps again. With Higgins gone, Hadrian returned to reducing the size of the stacked papers on his desk, one signature at a time. Something Higgins stated gave him pause, though.

”Recognized… Hmph,” he thought, allowing his mind to wander somewhere else.

The third anniversary of his assignment to the ship loomed. Some part of him wondered if he should be excited, even a little bit, but he felt nothing. That date had lost its meaning to him long ago. His career had lost its meaning. All he felt was the numbness of the everyday chore, drowning his thoughts like chloroform.

Hadrian placed down the quill for a moment and reflected on his career. His storage closet office sat tucked deep into the ship’s lower decks, barely a step above the cramped quarters where he started.

His mind wandered further and he allowed, just for a moment, to recall when the captain called upon him— the day he knew the hardships he’d endured hadn’t been in vain.

The captain had summoned him, smiling officers looking at him with hopeful eyes as he arrived, and bestowed the insignias upon his collar. He had enlisted as a mere seaman; a powder monkey to fire and reload a cannon. To become an officer wasn’t even in his maddest dreams; as for someone like him, attaining officership was as realistic an aspiration as that of attaining kinghood, and yet there he was.

It felt like a dream— it had to be a dream— and as soon the clamor and jubilee had died out, said dream died like a fish out of water.

A cramped office in the far end of the ship, fashioned out of a storage closet, barely lit and with leaking pipes. No privileges beyond access to the officer’s lounge, and only then as long as he stayed out of sight. His new responsibilities: a quill and inkwell, and papers. Never-ending papers.

He sighed, shaking his head to focus as he returned his quill to the inkwell, only to feel it hit something hard. He had drained the inkwell dry, and perhaps this was his chance for respite.

~~~

”Hey, Hadrian! Finally came here to have some fun?” This obnoxious salute was his welcome.

Five men in officer’s attire, most of them Midshipmen like him, one was even a Sub-Lieutenant, sitting around the central table, smoking, drinking, gambling and joking away. The ship wouldn’t be moving any time soon— orders from above were to stay put until new deployment, so there was nothing for them to do but to waste away the hours as the crewmen below did the real work.

The moment he walked into the room, they all stopped what they were doing to look at him, like he was some kind of circus freak walking into the big top circus tent. And in a sense, he was.

He wasn’t a naval officer, but a glorified secretary, in a position that demanded a rank. He didn’t even need to read what he signed, someone already had for him; his role was that of a hand that took the quill out of the inkwell.

It was no surprise, after all. Officership was a noble’s right, and despite his family’s good financial standing, their blood never ran blue. His hopes had been dashed under circumstances far outside of his reach.

”Not yet, sir,” Hadrian replied as he straightened his posture, trying his best to sound natural as about two dozens of eyes were focusing on him. “I have merely run out of ink; the quartermaster has already been notified, but he told me it would take him a while to resupply me,” 

They chuckled a bit at his answer, proverbially looking at him from high above, even if not all of them intended it. When one is raised as a king, a peasant will always be a peasant, no matter if he’s draped in silk.

Saying nothing else, he moved to the lounge’s kitchen, where a hot kettle would never be too far away from a handful of tea leaves, which he brewed in silence as the officers returned to their games and drinks, sometimes whispering and shooting glances in his direction.

He sighed in silence as he poured the water on the leaves, returning casual glances at his carousing comrades, his presence already forgotten.

The officers saw him as nothing more than a clown, and his fellow seamen now had mixed opinions of him. Some saw him as their savior; the one that would intercede in their stead with the captain, while others saw him as a traitor; as the man who had tasted the honeys of command and would make full use and abuse of it. Neither were true, but none would believe that either. However, he had long since stopped caring about those feelings and learned to just trudge along.

”Ah—!” As he absentmindedly turned around, tea cup in hand, he almost bumped into a man that had been standing behind him. But, as he quickly braked, a small amount of tea was sent flying from his cup and landing on the man’s jacket.

”My apologies, sir. I did not see you arrive. Allow me to get you a towel,“ Hadrian said as he turned around looking for some rag in a manner like that of a terrified servant.

”It is alright, lad. It’s just tea, had it been wine it would be far more troublesome,” the man replied, his voice both friendly and dismissive.

He was a head taller than Hadrian, his frame in that odd midrange that’s neither small nor large. He was clad in a well-kept but barely decorated officer’s uniform, and strangely enough, having no rank insignia at all. His face, however, wore both the wrinkles and the graying hair of a seasoned campaigner, although his expression was so soft and serene that he could’ve passed off as a priest. Like he was lounging on a pleasant balcony somewhere.

“Yes sir, but I had just put sugar on it, and you would not want the mice nibbling on your uniform because of that.” replied Hadrian, the man’s calm laid-back attitude seemingly sapping energy from his sense of urgency.

”That said, who might you be, lad? Never seen you before. Are you a visiting cadet from from another vessel?” the aged officer politely asked, lowering his head as he approached the stove. The light from the oil lamp in the wall reflected off the hair of the grizzled man, revealing speckled patches of red hidden amongst the silvery gray.

For a moment, Hadrian feared this man’s display of politeness was but a front to veiled mockery. However, there was something on his face— the expression upon his aged visage— that seemed to almost radiate a soothing aura.

Realizing this, Hadrian opened his mouth to answer, but one of the officers in the table behind, deep in his cups, blurted out instead.

”That’s ta Cap’n new grummet, Commodore! Feel free ta ‘ave ‘im to wash ye clothes and clean yer chamberpot, hahahha!” He shouted as he climbed onto the table, his mates trying to sit him down and shut him up, to no avail.

”C-Commodore!?” Hadrian hastily made a salute while standing firm, only for the aged officer to dismiss it.

”At ease, lad. I am not here on an official visit, I am not even on duty. I was just here visiting an old acquaintance.” he said as he moved past Hadrian, who was still standing firm, carrying the kettle, ”And feel free to ignore them, lad; had their families not purchased those letters of service for them, they wouldn’t have those ranks. Heck, if it were up to me, they wouldn’t even be fit for swabbing decks!” he said this very loudly while looking back at the officers in the table; they seemed to shrink from his voice, which had changed from gentle to thunderous.

”So, you were introducing yourself.” the Commodore turned to face him, water pouring in his own tea cup. His demeanor already back to his laid back attitude from before.

”Hadrian Hale, sir. Midshipman. Currently the newest officer of this vessel,” he said with a short salute.

The other officers were quickly vacating their table, carrying their drunken mate along.

”Hm… so they have you sign all those forms from the port authority, aye?” he asked, Hadrian replying with a meek, resigned smile. Even if this man was acting in an affable manner, Hadrian wouldn’t dream of complaining to a Commodore, as it would seem like he was badmouthing his own Captain.

 “Those corrupt scoundrels,” the Commodore sighed, ”they are part of the reason this country is in such state of disarray.” He added as he sipped his tea, slightly soaking his voluminous mustache.

”Duty is duty, sir. And with all due respect, I am sure even someone as high as yourself has to deal with paperwork and bureaucracy once in a while.” Hadrian’s cold expression warmed up a bit as he said this.

”Oh, once in a while?” he chuckled, “You are too kind, lad. I deal with it so much that sometimes I’d rather fight a horde of pirates with nothing but a dull knife and my undergarments than face these meddling desk jockeys; at least a pirate I can stab without consequence until it stops annoying me.” groaned the Commodore with an embittered smile, his eyes still focused on Hadrian, as if scrutinizing him. It was an intimidating stare, even if he was just calmly enjoying every sip of his tea.

”… That said, lad—” he said, pointing out to Hadrian with his tea cup, “If you are willing to part with your inkwell for a while, I may have something more fit to do for a man that enlisted for action. Would you like to partake in a bit of an errand?” he added following a short silence, ponderously scratching his chin.

It took Hadrian a what felt like an eternity to react to this, although it was probably less than a few seconds. His desk-addled mind slowly brought itself to realization like a bear awakening from its hibernating slumber.

”I… have no objections, sir, but what would you be offering? And what would it entail?” Asked Hadrian as he leaned his head, a strange and warm feeling suddenly welling within his mind.

~~~

A one-man steam launch with a few crates of provisions, a fresh uniform with his Midshipman insignia proudly upon his collar, and a new model dragoon revolver; a technology so new he found himself spinning the cylinder, hearing the sound it made as it clicked into place like a child with a new toy.

Was he dreaming? Would the moment he set foot on that launch wake up, soaked in sweat and water upon his run-down hovel of an office? No, it wasn’t a dream, but as he remembered the events from the night before, his mind still struggled to believe what had transpired, as if remembering a bygone dream.

”Are you sure you want him, Reynard? I have plenty of other officers with more hours than him.” Asked his Captain to the Commodore with an expression of disbelief.

”I am, Rhaul. Besides, this is no secret mission with the fate of a country on its shoulders, it’s a simple reconnoitering operation, and this lad seems capable. After all, just as you don’t wear your best coat when going for a simple lunch, but you do not go in a ragged outfit either.” Replied the Commodore as he brought his hand to his chin. The fact that they referred to each other on a first name basis must mean they have known each other for quite some time.

”I… guess so.” The expression of his Captain was somewhere between bewilderment and shock. The moment the Commodore had entered his quarters with Hadrian in tow, the Captain had reacted as if he had brought in a particularly friendly yet smelly dog he had picked up in an alley. Hadrian remained fully silent during the whole interchange.

His Captain said nothing else; either because it was a request from a higher ranked officer, or because he simply didn’t care, before politely taking his leave from the Navigation room, where a ring of oil lamps illuminated the vast array of tools, charts, and maps that littered the walls and tables of the room.

”So, this is what’s going on.” said Commodore Reynard as he beckoned Hadrian and pointed to the large chart in the main wall of the Navigation room, ”Ever heard of this place here, Midshipman Hale?” he asked, pointing to a minuscule island to the west, not far off into the gulf. It was marked simply as LHP-071 in the map.

”No sir.” Hadrian’s reply was short. The Commodore gave him a single nod.

”We call it Flowbreaker Point, albeit the locals like to call it the far more foreboding name of Dead Mariner Key.” He circled it with his finger again as he spoke. ”Being right at the boundary between the northern gulf currents and those flowing along the coast, the island’s surrounding waters have an uncanny talent of not allowing any ships to approach, while also having this tendency to reverse their flow and drag you in, not letting you leave. Such was the reason it took until we had decent steamer ships, for anyone to land on it and come back to tell the tale, that was about a decade back.” He then pointed to a protruding peninsula in the island’s western end. ”Around spring that same year, they built a lighthouse there called Lombert’s Watch, but just as personnel were being procured, the currents shifted again, locking the island again from entry… At least, until now.” With this last comment, Commodore Reynard turned towards Hadrian, expecting some reply.

”What is the situation there that requires such urgent action, if I may ask? Or is it merely a matter of outrunning the currents?” Asked Hadrian as he raised his eyebrows. The Commodore had no way of knowing, but deep inside, Hadrian was welling with excitement. As if all those emotions that had been dulled over the past couple years were now blooming en masse, like plants in a desert after the rain. It took all of his effort to keep those emotions in check. 

”A bit of both, actually.” he replied, turning back towards the map, ”As you may or may not already know, there’s a storm coming from the gulf, and a few fishermen have reported that this has weakened the currents to the point it would be possible to have a ship get there. We are trying to get someone there to compile a report on the condition of the lighthouse and adjacent structures, see if they can light it’s beacon, and survey the island in case some shipwrecked mariner has been trapped on it. I have it on good authority it’s happened before.” The Commodore twisted the end of his mustache as he faced Hadrian. The expression in his face hinted at things being a bit more than what he was telling, but Hadrian chose to not press the issue.

“However, with all the disruptions on the docks, and the port authority being as friendly as a rabid tiger, it has not been possible to assemble an expedition team to do any of the above. Not to mention that it may as well be a one-way ticket for those involved, as the currents could come back at any time, so volunteers are scarce. With the storm that’s coming being the proverbial crown of misfortunes.” The Commodore wore an expression that was almost pleading.

Hadrian’s curiosity got the best of him. ”I still cannot quite wrap my mind around what is going on in the docks; I myself had to go out there and tell many citizens to move their ships, offering no more explanation than ‘It is an order’ to them. Just what is going on out there?”

The Commodore sighed deeply before replying, ”I’m sorry, Midshipman. You don’t have the clearance to know that.” For the first time, Commodore Reynard’s expression was stern and imposing, and mayhaps a bit angry as far as Hadrian could discern.

”Understood, sir,” said Hadrian with a nod. ”So, back on topic, it is not a suicide mission, but one where luck is the ultimate deciding factor, yes?” he asked, being unusually blunt.

”That is certainly the best way to put it, no doubt. The risk of getting stranded is very real.” The Commodore said, his eyes looking strangely distant for a moment, but they quickly regained their focus.

”I understand as much, sir, but had I wanted to stay out of danger’s way, I would have become a vinter like my father.” Replied Hadrian with a certain measure of pride; the flame that had been ignited within him burning bright, ”My only question is…. why me? Am I truly qualified for this mission?” he asked, again the Commodore sighed, but this one was more exasperated than angry.

“You ask me why I am not sending one of your ‘more qualified’ mates instead of plain old you, eh?” he replied in an unusually casual way, which felt strange for a moment, before he straightened his uniform’s neck, and recovered his previous demeanor.

”Those spoiled brats in the officer’s lounge all have letters of service; which is like an unspoken agreement to keep treating them as royalty while they’re getting their sea legs, all of them ending as Lieutenants or higher as soon as they earn their hours. They cannot be harmed or endangered outside of a real combat situation, which means they’re about as useful as a decorative sword, and probably half as sharp.” He turned back towards the map, his hand resting on the emblem of the Imperial Navy at its corner, “As a nobleman myself, and with seventeen generations of worthy seamen in my lineage, I feel these brats are a stain upon the Navy’s escutcheon, but I have no saying on the ways these sort of matters are handled.” he looked like he wanted to spit as he spoke; a seething yet cold fury seeping from his every word, ”But you, lad, are but a common man—” he added, almost gleefully, as he turned back, ”No letter of service to keep you safe, but also, you are not a mere conscript that may just walk away as soon as he’s found himself on land and outside his Captain’s grasp. You are simply perfect for this, whether or not that’s a good thing, is up to you. Also, bear in mind you’re not helping me, but the Admiralty itself; good word from a flag officer can get you far up, and with no questions asked.” he added with an uneasy smile as conflicting thoughts raged within Hadrian’s mind. But his choice was already made.

”Yo! Hadrian!” Suddenly, this hail brought him back from his reverie of memories.

Turning back towards it, he saw a familiar merry mariner making a beeline towards him.

”Hey man, look at these! We both look good with them, eh?” with all the glee of a child, Higgins pointed to the coin-shaped anchor insignias upon his collar, marking him as Midshipman.

”They promoted you?” Said Hadrian, his eyes widening in surprise.

”Yeah, I guess all those papers won’t sign themselves. I heard you’re going on some kind of special commission for the Admiralty, they just grabbed the next guy in line and slapped the rank on him. You have no idea of how happy I am just by being outside of those blasted lower decks.” he said without losing his smile, ”So, since this is all thanks to you, I decided to give you this as a parting gift; one of ‘em blue-bloods ‘misplaced’ it on the mess hall.” with a wink, he handed Hadrian a small rectangular wooden box, inside there was a brass spyglass with gold-rimmed eyepieces and even a tiny compass embedded on top. It was undoubtedly a luxury item.

”Don’t want the Cap’n finding that in my hands, and I reckon it’ll do you some good.” added Higgins with a dastardly smile.

”Very well… I found this thing on the island, in an old shipwreck. Any resemblance it may have to any lost objects is purely coincidental.” said Hadrian as he returned the smile, both looking equal parts happy and vindictive towards the abuses they suffered.

~~~

The steam launch was barely a ship; more like a large boat with a steam engine in it. There were two coal boxes nailed to the hull next to it, and a few other small crates and barrels tied in place along the bow. It was small enough for a single man to operate it, and the coals in the firebox were still hot, so there was really not much to do to get her moving.

However, it was not all freedom and adventure; while the sea was relatively calm, black clouds filled the sky, with the din and flash of thunder raging down all around. Rain was coming soon, as it was wind and thunder so there was no time to waste. Setting the engine to full speed ahead, he watched as the docks disappeared behind him.

”Hm, West-Northwest.” Muttered Hadrian as he checked the ship’s compass, writing it all down in his journal. He had always liked keeping a log of his activities, although he had ceased doing so after his promotion, else it would be nothing but page upon page of ‘Signed Document’ again and again. Still, a big part of this mission was for him to compile a report on the island, so this was a good time to start polishing his note-taking skills again.

With the ship in the right direction, and the weather still stable, he found himself playing with the revolver again; the cylinder’s chambers always ended in the right place, no matter how much he spun it.

He was still unsure of why he had even been given that weapon and the few extra bullets even. Was the Commodore expecting him to encounter some kind of hostiles on the island? Pirates? Smugglers maybe? He didn’t think an island that small would even have anything living on it beyond your average crab. Regardless of the reason, the weapon alone was quite the reward, as he always felt some amount of curiosity regarding these new models of firearms, so he would have his fun even if he had to return it later. Although, the question still crossed his mind of why had he been given a cavalry issue instead of a navy issue.

Suddenly, a blinding flash assaulted his eyes, followed by a boom that felt frighteningly near. The white tendrils of lightning surging forth from the empty sea.

It had hit rather close, and since his ship’s smokestack was the tallest thing for miles, Hadrian couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. The island itself was some thirty-something nautical miles away from the docks, and with the launch making about six knots at best, it would be a bit over four hours. So all he could do was hope for the best.

Once he was sure all was in order and after adding a few more pieces of coal into the firebox, Hadrian set to studying all the information on a small dossier he was given about Flowbreaker Point, starting for a small yet detailed map of the island.

”Two miles from north to south, one mile from east to west…. I’ve seen bigger marketplaces.” He thought as he looked at the notes on it. It was a very low-lying island; the type that sometimes disappears during storms or gets wiped out completely if hit by a big enough hurricane. There was a low bay on the north coast, and a cliff rising on the west-southwestern side, crowned by Lombert’s Watch. The rest of the island was mostly flat, with sandy beaches both north and south, and covered in varied vegetation; mangroves, stubby palms, and a few odd oaks amongst them. There were also mentions of old shipwrecks along the beaches, as well as a few human remains amongst them that were brought back to the city by the lighthouse workers. The Commodore had mentioned that a castaway had been found on it, so perhaps the name of Dead Mariner Key was not fully undeserved.

One rather overwhelming document was a mention of some kind of fruit tree called ‘seagrape’, which according to the notes themselves, is not native to the region and wasn’t supposed to survive there. There was even an entire paper in the dossier where clearly the same individual details his theories about how these ‘seagrapes’ could be made into wine, and the possible benefits of creating a winery there.

”Hm, I guess there’s more wine-obsessed people in this world than my dear father.” He said with a bittersweet smile, his mind suddenly remembering the heated argument that sparked when he told his father he was joining the navy. He had already realized many times just how right his father was, but he’d rather die in a boiler explosion than ever admit it. Getting away from him had been one of his secret reasons for enlisting.

Another document made mention of a sizable spring within the island, clarifying how its water wasn’t just drinkable, despite being slightly salty, but also mentioned that it was a thermal spring. And unsurprisingly, there was a document tragically detailing how the island didn’t seem to have any precious metals or coal, as no patch of dirt would escape the outstretched hand of the Coalbreaker Guild, no matter how small and far away.

”Hm?” Suddenly, a small piece of paper fell from within the rest of the dossier, its handwriting peculiarly shaky. It looked less like a document and more like a personal letter that got mixed in with the dossier.

There are things in this place; bad things. I can hear them, see them in the corners of my eyes. They’re in the branches, in the shadows, in the underbrush, running away as soon as I look at them. The others don’t believe me, think I’m old and crazy. But I’m sure there’s a good reason for us to stick to the cliff and avoid the rest of the island, and I’m sure it isn’t just because of that mad castaway’s ramblings. This island has always been locked out by powers beyond the keen of man, and I don’t think those powers take our incursion kindly.

A shiver ran down Hadrian’s spine as he finished reading that note, it was unconscious, but a few thoughts began to emerge in his mind.

What if the Commodore’s choice was not out of the other officers having letters of service, but due to this mission requiring someone that wouldn’t be missed if gone? Or because they needed a single sacrificial lamb to accomplish something, something said lamb would either die or go mad from? Maybe there was a reason no one wanted to sail to this island beyond the port authority’s meddling. Maybe that feeling he got that the Commodore wasn’t telling him something wasn’t just his desk-addled imagination.

”Bah, balderdash.” Hadrian said this aloud as he shook his head.

If that was the case and this was a setup for some kind of trap, the lure really didn’t seem so good; just go to a lighthouse, see if it’s still standing and get it working? Not exactly the kind of tales of heroism novels get written about. Were the goal more luring, or the reward greater, he would suspect, but that so far wasn’t the case.

He pulled out the revolver and gave the cylinder another spin, letting the clicks soothe his mind. Why would give him expensive equipment like that dragoon revolver if he was just an expendable man? Those things don’t exactly grow on trees.

Wordlessly, he put the note back in the dossier, checked the route and engine pressure, and looked at the time in his pocket watch. He had barely spent an hour reading the papers; still about three and a half to go. It was going to be a long and boring trail, yet nowhere as boring as sitting behind a desk.

~~~

A shape peeking over the horizon, an unbridled sense of excitement.

”Land, ho!!” Hadrian shouted from the top of his lungs, a wide smile forming on his face for the first time in a long while.

In the last three hours, he had re-read the dossier to the point of memorizing the map, he accounted for all of his supplies and how big a portion he could eat every day to make them last at least one week, and he had fine-tuned the valves of the pipework connecting the boiler to the engine, gaining almost half a knot of speed. All of this carefully detailed into his Journal/Travel Log to his satisfaction.

The western cliffs and the lighthouse were within view almost as soon as the lush lowlands, meaning his course had gone off slightly to the south, but that could be easily corrected.

Upon closer proximity, the island’s details began to emerge from under the fog, taking the vivid greens of the treeline and the limestone white of the cliffs, and the lighthouse, built from the same stones atop them.

Hadrian pulled out his new spyglass and scouted the landmarks. As far as he could see, the lighthouse was in pristine condition. There also seemed to be a pair of smaller buildings next to it, but the cliff’s orientation did not let him see them clearly. He could, however, see that the tide had carved a grotto on the base of the cliff through centuries of striking waves. There were some rocks protruding out from the beach ahead, but the water was clear enough that they could all be seen in the bottom. So as long as he moved slowly, there would be no breached hulls.

However, as he focused more on the beach itself, a familiar structure came into view that made his stomach sink a little.

A crosstrees, with the crow’s nest still attached and all. A shipwreck from the age of sails, perhaps buried under the sand, and it wasn’t alone. Bits of wooden debris contrasted sharply against brownish white sand, some bigger, some smaller, and all clearly quite old. One particular thing, however, was not like the rest; farther to the right, the unmistakable shape of a boiler lay half buried in the sand, next to a broken smokestack and some other bits of wood. It was a large boiler, perhaps big enough for a tugboat.

Hadrian put the spyglass down and gave a moment of silence. Who knew how many good men laid resting in the bottom of these waters?

The island’s dossier didn’t go into any detail on the island’s history or folklore, but the Commodore had told Hadrian that, to the sailors of the closeby city of Balenmouth, it was a place of strangeness and misfortune. But how did that even start? Given its extremely westwards location and how far it is from any major trade routes, Hadrian couldn’t help but find it odd that it was a place with such rich nautical superstitions surrounding it. Was it because of the currents? Were said currents also bringing in all those wrecks from somewhere? Maybe from the Azure Expanse; the massive and empty ocean that laid just west of it? Perhaps he’d be the one to give answers to those questions.

Setting the engine to half speed, he began to monitor the water’s movements; there was indeed a small shift in the current, leading his ship farther west. This was easily corrected, until yet another current is now threatened to send him back east.

He could see what the Commodore had told him about; indeed this island’s currents were like a natural barrier, and yet, this also made it the ideal place for a lighthouse far from the coast, as it was unlikely anyone would be able to raid it.

Once the water was shallow enough to see the bottom, Hadrian set the engine on standby and began maneuvering his tiny craft around the rocks and wreckage using its remaining inertia. This launch had a rather deep keel, as it was a seaworthy vessel, so he had to judge the distance very carefully.

~~~

The grinding motion of a ship running aground, the salty splash of his boots hitting against the beach; the seaman’s fantasy fulfilled. Once he found a solid-enough stump, he lashed the boat to it, lest the tide free it from the sand and send it drifting.

The beach was deserted but lovely. Tiny red crabs crawling into holes, seagulls circling above looking for an easy meal, and some oddly low trees with fan-shaped leaves, with long strings of green and purplish berries swaying gently in the sea breeze.

”Are these so-fabled seagrapes?” Muttered Hadrian as a spike of curiosity led him to pluck one of the green ones and put it in his mouth.

”Pflagh!” he retched, it was viciously acidic, almost caustically so, ”If these things make good wines, then boot-brewed Navy moonshine is worth a king’s feast,” he said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve and wishing he had some tea to wash it out.

Going back to the ship, he assembled a small pack with some rations, a small bottle of navy grog, and the spyglass, which doubled as his compass. The lighthouse was barely twenty minutes away, and it looked like it would soon start raining, so it’d be good to know if there was already a viable shelter there.

The way itself wasn’t too steep, and there was a small pathway made of half logs somewhat buried under on the way there.

”Breathtaking, no doubt,” muttered Hadrian. As he looked back from the cliff’s summit, he could see not only all the surrounding sea, but also the whole island as if it were a war room map unfolded at his feet.

The cliffs themselves were tall enough to protect the buildings from even the worst waves, but not so tall that they made climbing a pain, and the small cluster of palms and a small oak surrounding the lighthouse would protect the buildings from all but the worst storms.

Besides the lighthouse, the two small buildings were a dwelling and some sort of shed. Their roofs appeared a bit damaged and weathered, but their walls were still sturdy, a resilience no doubt owed to the mighty limestone they were made of. They would make for a nice shelter, but there was a problem: they were locked.

Sturdy padlocks and chains kept all their doors shut tight. For a moment, Hadrian wondered if there wasn’t a key the Commodore had forgotten to give him, but he quickly realized he had the best key of them all.

A merry smile found its way onto Hadrian’s face as he pulled out the revolver, ”Ah, finally a reason to use you.” he said as he set the cylinder in place and fully cocked the hammer, softly squeezing the trigger.

Fierce, thunderous, devastating, and with quite a bit of kick despite him holding it with both hands. The padlock shackle broke in the base, and the shot embedded in the limestone wall next to it. The locks in the shed and lighthouse looked sturdy, but this one, not so much, and the bullet had made short work of it.

Hadrian couldn’t help but feel an outburst of fearlessness as his ears rang. He had always been trained with rifles, or a ship’s cannons, both quite different to revolving pistols. While he had received training for them, it was minuscule and mostly theoretical, as such novel weapons rarely ended up in the navy first. Now there was a mixture of both admiration and envy to the men in the cavalry, who fired these behemoths one-handed while keeping control of their steed.

”No wonder they’re the ones who seize victory,” he thought as he holstered it, making his way inside of the dwelling.

The inside was empty and unfurnished save for the fireplace; perhaps those things were supposedly coming with the people who’d live there. The roof had a few holes, but nothing that couldn’t be fixed with a bit of wood and some nails. Maybe he could even repurpose some of those bits of flotsam on the beach.

However, as he left, he noticed a nail in the wall by the door, with two old keys hanging from it. Truly, it was a fortunate find, but it also meant he’d not need to shoot the other two padlocks, which he couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed about.

The lock on the shed opened easily. Inside there was a set of carpentry tools, some firewood, two empty barrels, and about a dozen limestone blocks and wood planks, no doubt leftovers from the construction.

The lighthouse’s lock was a bit more stubborn, but in the end it opened. Save for three small piles of firewood by the base of the ladder, it was empty. Everything seemed to be in perfect condition, albeit a bit out of date; firewood-powered lighthouses were being slowly replaced by oil-powered ones, although most of those were close to big whaling ports, and such a thing was scarce in this region.

Having reached the top of the lighthouse, Hadrian found the wind beating at him. The wind was quite strong there, so he opted to kneel down, as there wasn’t much of a fence to keep him from falling. The only distinct features at the top were a metal brazier set in the center of the structure and surrounded by an odd array of polished metal plates, and a stubby brass rod embedded onto the structure’s edge, most likely some kind of lightning conductor. Once he was certain it was safe, Hadrian pulled out his spyglass and scouted around.

In the distance, the trees swayed, and the waves were taller than before. He also finally got a good look at the northern beach. It was far rockier, but deeper, and he could make out what was undoubtedly a pair of rather intact ship hulls stranded in the sand or between the rocks, one of them still with bits of tattered sailcloth on its masts. He couldn’t help but nod to himself for his choice of landing in the southern beach instead of the northern one; that could’ve gotten ugly.

No doubt he would be checking those wrecks at some point. the settlers who built the lighthouse may have already looted them, but who knew what was left in those darker corners they did not tread upon for fear of curses and the like, and anyone who found himself trapped in this island may have chosen them as a shelter.

”Hm?” Suddenly, something caught his eye.

He could’ve sworn he saw a silhouette move next to one of the trees closer to the coast. Was it a trick of the eye? Some illusion caused by the swaying trees? Regardless, he would have to go back to his ship to pack up the rest of his supplies.

~~~

”This should do.” Hadrian muttered to himself as he left some of his supplies by the dwelling’s wall. It made no sense to go back down fully loaded if he was going to bring more things back with him, so he left all but the spyglass, making a mental note to pay back Higgins at some point; it had been indeed useful.

The way down was easy enough, the biggest annoyance being not tripping on any of the wooden steps. But as soon as the boat was within view, something appeared immediately wrong.

”What the—?” He thought, feeling shivers course through his spine.

Someone had been there; the crates and boxes in the ship had been messed up; coal spilled all over the ship’s bottom along with scattered papers. His ration boxes had been opened and a few hardtacks and sausages were missing; eaten no doubt, as there were crumbs all over the place.

”…” He silently looked around while putting his right hand on his revolver, and pulling his dirk out of his boot with his left one. His mind drawing out unseen shapes around the swaying trees.

“Hello? Anyone here? I mean no harm.” he shouted out, realizing he didn’t look too harmless with a weapon in each hand, but only the soft sound of the swaying trees replied his hails, so he turned back to his boat.

The damage done was not consistent with an animal scavenging. Nothing was broken;  clearly the mess of a hasty search. There were also footprints in the sand, or something closer to handprints. Had this person tried to cover their tracks so hastily they left handprints behind? Just what was going on here?

He noticed the scrawled note from the dossier lying face up in the sand by his boot.

There are things in this place: bad things.

That passage remained unsettling.

He stood there on guard at the boat for some time, watching his surroundings. How long? He wasn’t sure. Perhaps several minutes, but he did not drop his stance long enough to check his watch.

In the end, nothing happened. He quickly gathered all the remaining provisions into his backpack and shoved as much coal he could fit in one of the boxes before untying it from the hull. He could most likely hunt for food or forage, but without coal for the way back, he would be stranded already.

The coal crate was rather unwieldy, so he fashioned a set of handles using some rope. The wind was starting to pick up; the storm was approaching, and he had no time to waste.

With thunder echoing in the distance, he ran up the cliffside path, soon coming face to face with the lighthouse’s dwelling. As soon as he opened the door, the sound of munching and crunching reached his ears. He was not alone.

In the corner of the shack stood a figure, trying to open the package in which he had sealed his rations. The dwelling allowed for little light from the outside, there being only one window. In the darkness, however, he could still discern the figure’s near-humanlike movements.

Hadrian tossed the coal crate aside, pulled out his revolver, and shouted at the top of his lungs, ”Don’t move! Show yourself or I’ll fire!” He meant to sound less threatening, but fear had dug its claws into him.

”Huh…?” The shape turned back, making a sound similar to actual speech.

Hadrian fully cocked the hammer of his gun, though he felt his hand shaking. He was no stranger to warfare, but shooting cannons from a ship had a very different feeling compared to pointing a gun at someone so close.

The light coming from the doorway shone lightly onto a pair of reddish-yellow eyes. They gazed back at him, which only served to increase Hadrian’s fear.

”… Papa?” The shape said. Upon hearing it speak, and realizing its words, Hadrian lowered his guard. ”PAPA!”

He felt a blow in his stomach, he heard the revolver fire, but when he opened his eyes, he was on his back in the ground, looking at the black-clouded sky.

”Papa!! Papa came back! Papa came ba—” that voice again, and Hadrian felt a weight upon his torso.

”What in blazes!?” he thought as he saw the one who was straddling him.

She looked like a girl in her teens, maybe a year or two younger than him. Her hair was sandy-white, with some streaks of a light red here and there, but that was about where the human similarities ended.

A smooth yet coarse coat of fur covered from her shoulders and part of her neck all the way to the back of her hands. From the sides of her head, a pair of large, round ears popped out, covered in a thinner coat of the same sandy-white fur. And coming out of her coxis a long, prehensile tail tipped with some kind of copper ornament emerged, and moved around… just like that of a monkey. Her proximity to him had also filled his nostrils with a pleasant, womanly smell, carrying subtle hints of salt water and wild animal.

”… Wait.” the girl said as she started sniffing Hadrian’s jacket, ”You’re not Papa. Don’t smell like Papa.” she raised her head to look at him after this declaration. She was slightly freckled, and while her facial features were almost entirely human, there was a niggling feeling somewhere in the back of his head that something wasn’t quite right.

”You look a lot like Papa; clothes look the same and smell a lot the same, but you’re smaller than Papa and carry a weird smelly smell. Also look young, like Addie, not old like Papa.” She now sat at his torso, scratching her head, providing Hadrian the full realization that, while she was wearing a sort of leather harness around her chest, with a few pouches and bits of metal hanging from them, there was absolutely nothing covering her breasts, and the piece of cloth that covered her nether regions was barely the size of a handkerchief.

”W-W-W-W-!?” Hadrian’s words would just not leave his throat; his brain, beyond overloaded. He was in no way experienced with women, so to receive this full frontal like that set his brain on the fritz.

”Hm, you make noises like fish out of water, and you’re not Papa, but Addie thinks she likes you.” Said this wild girl with a smile, a rather fangy smile; her canines were not quite human.

Hadrian didn’t even know what to do; his body refused to move, but his eyes darted around as if looking for an exit. He saw his revolver on the floor, about two feet ahead of them, as well as a brand new hole in the dwelling’s roof from where light now poured in.

”W-W-What in blazes are you!?” his words finally emerged, fear and confusion permeating them.

”Addie is Addie,” she replied. “Should Addie be someone else?” she tilted her head to the side, some confusion visible in her face.

They would both stay like that for a moment; Hadrian’s mind still out of it.

”Addie!” Suddenly a shout, although this voice was different, ”Addie, what was that noise!? Ya not s’pposed to get close to the White Arm.” Her speech was a bit pidgin, but clear enough to be understood.

Hearing the shout, Hadrian looked towards the cliffside path. Another figure approached.

She looked strikingly similar to the girl on top of him, albeit this one looked slightly older; taller and with a more athletic build, and with slightly more covers on her. Fish leather, stitched into what may pass for some meager form of undergarments, covered her nudity with the help of bits of rope and metal clasps.

”Sis, look! Addie found another Papa!” Said the smaller one as she held Hadrian’s left arm up, as if it were a hunting trophy.

The taller one said nothing. With wide eyes and a deep scowl, she dashed toward him so quickly she was almost a blurr.

Hadrian then felt something hit him in the eye socket. It would be his last memory until regaining conscience.

~~~

The smell of food roused him from his sleep. Roasted fish, seasoned with rosemary most likely, and some other fragrance he couldn’t quite discern.

It was the voices that fully woke him.

”Adelyn, was it really necessary to do that? You could have killed him!” a different voice, soft and ladylike, but also admonishing and concerned.

”But I didn’t, so why yer angry at me anyway?” Said a second, familiar, voice in response. This was the taller one’s voice, and it sounded angry. “He was messin’ around the White Arm an’ was holding onto Addie! I did it to protect her. What would y’ave done if she had been taken ‘way, uh?” 

”No… actually, it was Addie who tackled him… Addie thought Papa was back.” And that was the voice of the first one, sounding a bit embarrassed.

”Why ya went up there, anyway? How many times ‘ave we told ya to not go there?” Asked the angry one.

”Well, there was a new float-thing on beach, and it had some tasty food on it, then Addie saw some tracks leading up to the White Arm and…” she went silent for a moment. ”Addie thought that maybe Papa had come back, and there were some more foods there. The meaty thing was tasty.” she added, sounding a bit too happy.

”Ugh…” groaned Hadrian as he tried to open his eyes. He could open the right one without problem, but he could not do the same with the left. It felt swollen and a bit painful, and when he tried to rub it, he found his hands had been tied up.

”What… what’s going on?” He asked weakly, struggling to make sense of his surroundings with his impaired sight.

He was hanging from a roof support like a dead rabbit, his legs tied to it with rope. The walls around him looked wooden, and oddly curved; like a ship’s hull, but upside-down. The floor was covered in tiny peebles, with some old planks here and there. There was some kind of primitive fireplace by the rock wall, no doubt from where the tantalizing smell came.

Between him and the fireplace stood three figures chatting with each other.

Two of them he already knew; the short one who had tackled him, and the lean-looking one that had showed up shouting. The third one, however, was much taller than the other two, and was thankfully clad in some kind of thick apron that preserved her modesty.

”Oh my, are you awake, sir? Can you understand me?” She asked very politely as she turned her back on the other two and walked towards him.

Even if her body was covered, her sizable amount of bust made itself known from under her garments. She also had a charming set of wide, child-bearing hips crowning a pair of lovingly plump legs. Her face wasn’t too different from the other two, albeit older.

Hadrian couldn’t help but realize that, despite this one showing more modesty, her body was the one that had allured his eyes the most.

”I… I can, but… where am I? Who… are you? Why did you bring me here!?” His questions became more and more agitated as he asked them.

”Oh, my apologies, I forgot to introduce myself.” She said, straightening her posture, ”My name is Adelaide, and this is our dwelling. I presume you already met my younger sisters here, Adelyn and Addie, though I would not blame your first impressions of them being poor.” Her manner of speaking was fit for a noblewoman, which clashed greatly with her uncivilized appearance.

”I-I understand.” Hadrian replied, feeling a bit overwhelmed by this sudden display of etiquette. ”My-My name is Hadrian Hale, Midshipman Hadrian Hale, and I assure you my intentions are fully harmless. I just came here to survey this island and activate the lighthouse on the cliffs.” He tried his best to reciprocate Adelaide’s politeness.

Suddenly, the angry one, whose name he believed to be Adelyn, lashed at him as she approached him menacingly. ”So I was right! Ya one of those bastards from the White Arm! What did y’do with Father? And Mother, where did you take her!?” 

”I don’t know! I have never been on this island before, nor have I seen or taken away any person living here. You are the first inhabitants I have encountered.” Her snarl revealed a set of teeth that almost triggered a primal fear in him, but Hadrian was not intimidated.

”You lie!” she spat, grabbing him by the neck of his coat, ”Yer wearin’ his clothes, smell a lot like him, an’ even have one of these noisy things like the ones of his kidnappers!” She pointed at his revolver, which was on top of a nearby table, as she said this. “D’ya think we are stupid!?” 

Hadrian, with the strongest voice he could muster, replied, ”These clothes are my uniform. I am a sailor of the Imperial Navy; there are thousands of men wearing this very same attire, the same goes for the weapon you’re holding. You have my condolences for the loss of your father and mother, but if you think that some clothes and a pistol are all that distinguishes a man, then you are both ignorant and foolish!”  He had his pride, both as a man and as a mariner. He wasn’t going to let some savage make demands of him just like that.

”You bastard!!” she tried to punch him, but Adelaide suddenly stood between them. Hadrian couldn’t even see her move; all he could see was Adelyn’s blow stopping dead in the air.

”Sister, you are embarrassing yourself in front of our guest, and dishonoring our father’s work with your behaviour.” Adelaide’s expression was like that of a stern matron, ”He always wanted you to respect others, and here you are now, behaving like a ruffian. So I am only going to say this once; stop, and think of what you are doing.” her stare alone could cut steel.

Adelyn looked like she wanted to snap back. But her facial expression wordlessly stated that she knew well what consequences would that carry.

Instead, she just let out a tired huff and wordlessly headed out. Her angry stare shooting back at Hadrian one last time as she exited.

”Addie still thinks you’re nice, Hadi.” replied the younger one, Addie her name, with a fangy smile as she and Adelaide began to undo his bindings.

”Uhm, thanks. Also, my name is Hadrian, not Hadi.” he said politely as he turned his head away; he just couldn’t look in her direction without seeing her bare bosom.

”Addie knows, but Hadi is easier to say than uh- Haidreen, it sounds a lot like Addie, too.” she added as she held him from his shoulder as they helped him down.

Still, their exchange shed light on many things: the father of these girls was undoubtedly the shipwrecked mariner mentioned in the dossier, and by the Commodore. He was perhaps an officer, given the manner of speech he had taught to his oldest daughter.

However, if what they said was true and he had been taken away by the people who built the lighthouse, why was it not mentioned anywhere in the dossier? Did the Commodore know? Why was this information withheld from him?

Hadrian just shook his head; nothing would be achieved by thinking about that now. Those questions would be for after his mission was done.

Looking around their dwelling, he could see it was built out of an upside-down wooden ship hull, with the entrance being what once was a large hull breach, now covered with a piece of sailcloth. The furniture around was crude, but sturdy; making the most out of whatever flotsam drifted ashore, or whatever shipwreck ended there.

”Here, put this in your swollen eye,” said Adelaide. “It should make the swelling go away faster.”  She handed him a small, tied up cloth pouch, dripping with some sort of greenish purple liquid.

”Thank you very much, and I do apologise for the inconvenienc-ehrg?” He replied, again, as politely as possible, as he sat on a nearby bench. His last hiccup wasn’t just because the medicine stung, but because Adelaide turned back, towards the fireplace, revealing that her clothes had no back cover beyond a string to tie it to her waist; her perfectly round and slightly reddish buttocks coming into full view. Again, Hadrian turned away, as a certain part of his anatomy was taking an uncomfortable rise.

Although, he did notice that they also had fur covering from their thighs down to the tops of their feet— or were those hands? They looked like feet, but with elongated fingers instead of toes.

”Just… what are they?” he mused, doing his best to ensure his fledgling erection remained undiscovered.

”So, what will Hadi do now? Will stay here, or go away to the White Arm?” she added, shuffling closer towards him on the bench, her body sticking to his. Was she actually teasing him? Or was she not aware of it?

She may have acted childish, but that body is no child’s.

”Hmm….” He brought his hand to his chin, pondering his choices. He had been tasked with surveying the island, assessing the state of the buildings, and looking for anyone living on it. However, he wasn’t sure if these girls counted as the kind of inhabitants the Commodore had in mind. The assessment was technically done, so perhaps he could allow himself some leisure time.

”The fish will be done soon,” said Adelaide, calling him to attention, “So, if it is not an inconvenience, would you accompany us for lunch? There is more than enough for everyone, and it would serve as a nice apology for our rather rough introduction.” She picked up a squarish piece of metal from a rack in her fireplace and put it on the nearby table.

On top of it were the two large fish, each split in half, covered in herbs, and still sizzling from the fire.

After countless months of eating insipid gruel and hardtack in the ship’s galley, the smell of that fish alone would probably compel him to surrender if it were the enemy offering the meal.

”It would be my pleasure,” replied Hadrian with his best gentlemanly face. Deep inside, he just wanted to shout with joy and dig into the food.

Addie chuckled as she hugged his arm all of a sudden, hunger suddenly making way to another bodily desire as he felt her shapely breasts around his arm, ”Addie likes that Hadi stay.” She rubbed her cheek against his arm like an affectionate cat. Hadrian just blushed deeply.

~~~

The chairs looked rather sturdy, albeit mismatched. The table was a sizable door, perhaps from a cargo hold, held up with four iron rods. It was all makeshift, but well built; the chair not even creaking under his weight.

He was expecting to eat with his hands, so he was surprised to see Adelaide pull a set of fork and knife to eat, the former a sharpened stick with two nails tied to it, the later looked like some worn surgeon’s scalpel. They only had two sets, though, so Addie still dug into her food hands on. The plates were just small slabs of wood, and the tray that held the crispy fish fillets was a repurposed boiler hatch.

Hadrian would’ve no doubt found fascinating the ingenuity with which they had created all of their implements, but his brain was too busy gorging itself with the sights and aromas of the dish he was served.

The fish must have been huge, as the fillet was finger-thick, and four people would be eating to satisfaction with it. Red meat; red enough to pass for pork, or even beef to the untrained eye, roasted to a golden brown with an oil he could not discern by smell, and covered in what was undoubtedly Rosemary, which Hadrian’s own mother had loved to put on all meats.

At first he voiced his concerns regarding the absence of Adelyn, the middle sister, but both Adelaide and Addie assured him that she would be back eventually, and that she often ate on her own. So without further ado, he dug into the food.

Meat falling easily off the fishbone, toasty skin crunching as he chewed it, almost no spines, and a rich, pungent taste that lingered in his mouth despite it being a bit short on salt.

He ate slowly, not for etiquette, but to savor each bite; sailors and soldiers had to eat fast, gorge their food to be back at their station as soon as possible, here he could leisurely eat at his own pace. It was a chance he wasn’t willing to waste.

”Can these… be eaten?” He asked a bit nervously as he pointed to the small pile of sea grapes on a dish at the table.

”Yes, but don’t chew the pit, it tastes ewww if it breaks.” replied Addie as she made a displeased face to empathize the sound of disgust.

”O-Okay.” Hadrian’s reply was a bit meek as he picked one of them up. The memory of the one he ate on the beach still strong in his mind, but that one he had eaten was smaller and greener, these ones were plump and of a rich purple color.

”Hmm.” He muttered as his teeth broke into the skin.

It was refreshingly tangy; sour but savory, and with quite a bit of a salty undertone, no doubt a result of growing on the beaches. He rolled it in his mouth like a piece of candy, his teeth stripping it of its pulp, until the pit was bare.

”Very good.” Hadrian said, satisfied, as he took the pit out of his mouth, it was about the size of a walnut, ”It has an oddly pleasant taste.” he added as he reached for another one.

”Be warned, however, you should not eat too many of them; one can barely taste them but they are very, very salty. Eating too many of them will dehydrate you, or worse, give you the runs.” Explained Adelaide as she continued to eat.

”Mm-mm, Papa learned that the hard way.” Added Addie with a chuckle. She ate at soldier speed.

”Thank you once again for the food. It is no flattery to say this has been exquisite.” Said Hadrian with a satisfied smile as he finished cleaning his plate. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so sated; it was a sensation of fulfilment like he had a good night of sleep after weeks  of all-nighters.

”If Hadi stays with Addie, can eat Big Sis food every day.” And almost as soon as he got up from the table, Hadrian found Addie latched onto his arm again, her bosom pressing against it.

”A-As much as I would not mind, I still have a task to finish outside. As soon as this is done, there will be time for leisure.” He replied, steeling himself as much as he could as his body betrayed his inner desires.

”But can’t work wait a bit longer?” Asked Addie with her best puppy eyes.

An echoing thunder made him pause before replying.

”Sadly not; there’s a big storm coming, and I need to get it done before—”

“Oi! Big trouble!” Adelyn’s shout came from outside. She burst through the entrance, soaked from head to toe, wearing terror on her face. “We gotta get outta here now!”

”What is going on?” Asked Adelaide, “Did we get more visitors?” her expression changing to a concerned frown.

”No, a Water Devil! The biggest I’ve ever seen!” She almost cried this reply. Now both Adelaide and Addie had alarmed expressions.

”What is it?” Asked Hadrian, he was still fully out of the picture on what they were describing.

”The sea gets angry; waves as tall as trees, winds that tear everything apart. That’s how Mama first ended here.” It was Addie who replied to him, her voice so soft and quiet he almost didn’t recognize it. Fear seeping from her every word.

”The storm!” Hadrian shouted as he realized, blood draining from his face.

He had been through more than one sea storm in the past, one in the city, one on a ship. Both were traumatic, and encountering one of those in the middle of the sea, be it in a ship or an island, was a scenario that froze the blood of even the most decorated Admiral.

”Ah— Hadi!” cried Addie as he brusquely shook her off, darting outside as fast as his legs could muster.

”Must get to the boat!” He thought as he felt the wind hitting him in the face like a punch. He was in the middle of a forest, with no clear path towards the beach.

”Dammit. Dammit!” he started to panic, madly looking around like a caged animal, ”That’s—!” the lighthouse was visible, barely, over the canopies. That was his guide.

~~~

Rain that hit like pebbles, mangroves like snares on his feet, and wind that could flay the skin off of a lesser man. But he continued, almost blind, towards the beach. Feeling flying bits of branch and rock scrap him more than once, sometimes just tearing his clothes, others hard enough to reach his skin, as he ran.

The previously calm beach now looked like a scene out of a nightmare: trees bending like bows, sand as muddy as a swamp, and waves taller than he was. The stump he had tied the boat to had been almost washed away, enough for the rope to come loose, and now the waves were drawing it away, into the jagged rocks that laid below the waves.

”No, you won’t!” He cried out, running into the waves, and catching the runaway rope.

His boat was small enough that it could be easily pulled ashore by a man of his strength, but the sea was a tough opponent.

Gritting his teeth, he slung the rope over his shoulders and tied it to his chest, trying to pull it back. ”I’m not failing this mission. I’m not failing this mission!” he repeated this mantra as he stepped forward.

His first ray of hope in his maritime career since enlisting, and he wasn’t about to lose it all to a rogue storm, not without fighting back.

One step, two steps, three steps, four steps, five steps, six steps. He was sure he hadn’t run that far, and that the beach wasn’t that long. So why didn’t he seem to be getting any closer? On the other hand, it was as if the beach was getting steadily away.

He groaned as a sudden wave pulled at the boat, digging the rope so deep into the side of his neck and shoulder, almost like a hangman’s noose.

”What is… going on…? … No… no…!” He muttered as he tried to adjust his feet, only to find them unmoving.

With the sand in the bottom stirred and softened, all he had accomplished was digging himself into a trench, trapping his feet like a pit of quicksand.

”Ugh, dammit! Move-augh!” Hadrian shouted, trying to pull his feet out of the sand, only to feel the boat’s rope tugging on him again, pulling him deeper.

He tried to untie the knot in the rope, but he could not find it in the chaos. It had gone to his back, or had been pulled tied so tight he couldn’t tell it apart from the rest of the rope, and the rain and wind continued to blind him.

He felt a pit drop into his stomach. It was over.

Unable to move his legs or remove the rope, the waves would pull the boat and him along until he either fell back and drowned, or the strength of the pull tore his legs off. Whatever the case, he was dead.

”Dammit, no! It can’t… it can’t end like this.” Mustering what remained of his strength, he managed to remain standing, but that wouldn’t allow him much more as he still couldn’t move, and he was feeling his strength leave him.

”Hadi!” Suddenly, a familiar voice, shouting a familiar nickname. Even through the rain, he could make out her figure, running towards him on all fours.

”Addie! No! Don’t come close, get to safety.” He cried out, although it seemed barely half the words made it out as she was not stopping.

”Hadi needs to get to shelter! Water Devil is almost here.” Said Addie as she approached.

”No, get out of here. Go! There’s nothing you can do.” Hadrian replied, his words failing him.

He could see her expression, and it was clear that she realized what was going on.

”No! Addie not leaving Hadi here. Won’t lose Hadi like lost Papa!” Addie cried out, grabbing both of his arms and pulling him. To Hadrian’s shock, her pull was almost as strong as that of the rope.

She tried pulling him a few times, but upon realizing what the problem was, she brandished a jagged piece of metal from her belt and began cutting the rope.

”Please… go… I don’t want… you to die…” His strength was gone from his voice, and if Addie weren’t holding him, he would have sunk under the waves.

”No no no! Addie not give up!” She replied without stopping her work on the rope. The rope’s grip started to loosen.

”Up and out!” She bodily uprooted him, his feet sliding out of his boots as she held him over her shoulders and ran.

Hadrian said nothing; he no longer had the strength to speak. All he could do was watch the boat, free of all bindings, shatter against the rocks and sink into the roiling waters.

He wanted to scream, to cry out, to be angry. With the boat gone, he was trapped on this island, his mission failed, his spirit broken as the rain pummeled his back.

All he felt was Addie’s body as she carried him.

”Warm…” he thought, feeling her fur-covered arms, which radiated heat despite being drenched. His mind fading with that thought.

<Next Chapter>

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