These short stories introduce the world of Project Arroa. Read Part Three here.

Stand here, she had instructed. So here I stood, immoveable as a stone even as The Swoop cut through chop and her bow rolled and dipped. The wind swelled and salt spray launched across deck.

After days of flight, my men were run ragged and starting to drop. I watched as Orris collapsed and skid on his hands and knees before righting himself. I saw that he had torn off strips from his shirt to wrap around his palms. The fabric was soaked in blood. Not even his calloused hands could survive the work of our last few days. He looked at me, desperate in that moment, and went back to work at the rigging. A pang of guilt surged through me. What have I done?

Yet I stood firm, precisely where she had placed me. I reached out with my mind and brought forward the ghostly outlines of my men, so that I could foresee their actions. I wondered at my new sight. Would I see them die before they truly died? Could I save them?

The Kishari runecutter rejoined me on deck after going below for some time. She had removed the simple blouse she came on board with, revealing she wore a short leather cuirass beneath, covering her chest and back. On her shoulders and bare arms, previously covered by her blouse, ran an intricate network of runes and scars. Slung across her shoulders was that cursed leather bag. She had tied back her dark hair into a high knot.

I understood at once she would be joining the fight alongside me, using whatever powers she might wield.

Rolf stood before me in that moment, looking equally fearful and desperate as the others. “Captain!” He shouted, raising his voice above the high wind and splashing seas. “The hunter is alongside us, but they’re not readying grapples yet. They don’t look to be boarding us.”

“They have other concerns,” she replied, a half-smile twisting her mouth. “The warship bearing down on us has skewered their plans. He doesn’t want to remain in gun range if he can help it.”

“What happens now?” I asked.

“Wait,” she answered. “This will be over very soon”.

As if on cue, the end arrived.

“What’s that sound?” Rolf said, turning to face the hunter’s ship veering closer to our starboard side. A high keening rang out, like a screech elongated into a whistle.

The air around us collapsed inward one moment and exploded outward the next. Salt spray was pushed away by a sphere of rapidly expanding air, flattening into rivulets of water against deck that streamed from the epicentre of this sudden force. I saw men tossed bodily overboard into the sea. Rolf was hurled across deck, slammed into the mainmast and crumpled.

Only the Kishari woman and I remained standing. She held my shoulder to steady herself as the wave of air buffeted us. I was unmoved from the place I had been commanded to stand. Despite the evident force of the airburst, I had felt only a gentle breeze.

“Hold tight!” She yelled into my ear. “Follow my command.”

The air became still around us.

She placed herself in front of me. I stood two heads taller and could see past her to the hunter’s ship looming like a captured moon. Gehennal stood on deck lowering his arms as if he had just clapped his hands above his head. He locked eyes with the runecutter, and with a sudden pop he vanished from his deck and appeared before us, facing the Kishari woman.

Gehennal of House Orizzt was now aboard The Swoop. I thought him shockingly tall and lean. He was clad in a short leather cuirass with lappet skirt armour about his waist and thighs. His long muscular limbs were otherwise bare. Runework covered every inch of flesh I could see. Across his body, blue light rippled through his runes, coursing from his feet to shoulders. With my sight, I watched his ghostly outline take two strides toward us, and then his body followed.

“Miranda, stop this foolishness!” He bellowed, his voice thunderous in the now-still air. “You’re coming home!”

He reached out for her, and for the first time noticed me standing behind her. He paused.

Gehennal studied the runes on my face. “Miranda,” he said softly now. “What have you done?”

She stood to one side. “Now, Captain!”

Instinct took over. I launched myself at him pulling lightning into my fists and striking out at his chest. He danced backward just in time as electricity arced from my hands toward him, sizzling in the air followed by twin thunderclaps. He staggered when the bolts struck him, but did not fall. His cuirass dropped smoking to the deck. Runes covering his broad chest strobed as blue light coursed through them.

My precognition saw the ghostly outline of his arms begin to move, and I was upon him before his body could follow, batting his arms, disrupting whatever movement he attempted. He punched out at me, and I dodged his blows. I pummelled him with fists like iron, sending him reeling backwards. I could not allow him to rally for a moment.

As we fought, The Swoop turned as she was now unmanned. I was barely aware of my remaining crew scurrying away from us to hide, or of the warship now almost upon us. The Auldport navy galleon was coming about, positioning herself so that both The Swoop and the hunter’s vessel ran broadside to her. I did not consider in the moment what it could mean. I was in a fight for my life.

Suddenly Miranda was at my side. Her runed left arm struck out like a snake, her fingertips striking a point on his right shoulder. His right arm dropped to his side as if she had cut the strings of a marionette. His eyes opened wide. He pushed at me with his left arm just as Miranda struck another point on his left shoulder. Now his left arm was rendered lifeless.

Gehennal spun about, perhaps attempting to a retreat. I grasped his dead arms and locked them behind his back. Miranda danced gracefully around and struck his abdomen once, then twice. His legs gave way, and he fell to the deck. With one final strike at his throat, Gehennal became motionless.

“Is he dead?” I asked, gasping to catch my breath.

“Not yet.” She turned to me. “I’m sorry, Captain. But you need to sit down and be still.”

I sat. I was still.

Miranda drew a long glance at the approaching warship which was now using their oars to rotate into position. Upon Gehennal’s vessel, his crew had seen what transpired on The Swoop and were scrambling to turn about. They no doubt intended to abandon their fallen master.

She stood over me and looked down. I did not know her well enough to say if the expression writ on her face was pity or regret.

“I am not cruel by nature,” she said. “I was raised by cruel people and have learned how to wield cruelty, but I wield it on my own terms. I use it as a soldier might a sword and shield against those who would deserve it.

“You were my sword and shield today, Captain. Thank you.” She bent down and kissed me gently on the forehead. Then she stood and faced the warship, took two steps forward, and with a dull pop blinked away from The Swoop.

“Don’t go!” I whispered hoarsely. Tears welled in my eyes and grief surged through me. My eyes darted about the naval galleon, searching for any sight of her.

I barely heeded the shouts coming from the hunter’s crew as the warship planted oars to rotate hard on the spot, a manoeuvre which propelled a low undulating wave toward us. There was a moment of silence as the low wave crested and splashed against our bow, and then the warship’s canons erupted with gunpowder violence.

Forty canons belched smoke and fire. I watched men leap overboard from the hunter’s ship a moment before the barrage of heavy gunfire tore through us both. The bow of The Swoop crumbled into flying splinters. The stem of her mainmast split and came crashing down. Ruptured wood and punctured canvas rained down from above. Nearby, one of my men screamed, mortally wounded.

I was barely conscious of Gehennal struggling to stand in the corner of my eye as the second round of gunfire erupted. Whatever integrity remained of The Swoop disintegrated on the second volley. I fell through into cold waters of the open sea and plunged below, sinking like a stone. Darkness rushed up to greet me as the daylight above fell away. My lungs burned and my chest convulsed. I felt seawater enter my mouth and knew my drowning was imminent.

As I blacked out, I remember a sudden foam of tiny air bubbles swirling around me and my shirt grasped by strong hands strobing with blue light. Then I knew no more.

I came to in the dark of night, laying face-down upon sharp stones on the Wild Shore. A small fire crackled next to me. Whatever wood it burned emitted a black oily smoke that stank of rot. I could barely feel any heat from it. I was dry, but shivering.

Some moments passed as I gathered my wits. The memory of my battle and the final moments of The Swoop came rolling in like a tide. I tried to sit up but was still too weak.

On the opposite side of the fire, a tall lean figure stood smoothly and crossed out of the shadows.

Gehennal of House Orizzt towered over me.

“Be still,” he said. The runes on his fists began to glow and pulse. “You won’t catch me unaware a second time.”

“Miranda?” I asked, hopefully.

“Fool!” He spat. “She has enthralled you to her and you don’t even know it. You’re only alive in this moment because I need you to answer my questions.”

I am not proud that I started to cry. I missed her so much. I wish the sea had taken me. Instead, I was returned into the hands of this monster.

Gehennal made a sound of disgust. “Pull yourself together, then we’ll talk.” He went back to the other side of the fire and sat down cross-legged. He stoked the flames with a stick, his eyes not leaving me as a I sobbed like a child. After some time, I ceased blubbering and managed to calm. I pulled myself up and sat, facing him across the fire. I wiped my eyes dry with the back of my wrist, no doubt a pathetic sight to him.

“This is why the law allows no unsanctioned runecutting,” he said, breaking the silence between us. His voice was not without sympathy.

“You cannot know what other tricks the artisan might weave into your skin. It would seem Miranda planted vulnerabilities onto me also. I will be having words with those whose responsibility it was to review her designs.”

He poked the fire and sparks swirled.

“What do you want from me?” I asked. I assumed he would slay me the moment our business was done. When not chasing down wayward runecutters, a hunter’s work was primarily to find and capture or kill those stained with illegal runes. People just like me.

“What did she say to convince you to submit to her tools? What did she promise you?” He asked.

“Only survival,” I replied. “She promised you would reduce my ship to splinters and blood floating on the water, and only her art could help us escape.”

He laughed at me. “It would seem she spoke the truth, as only splinters and blood now remain. But as you know, I am not the cause.

“The truth is I did not spare one thought for you or your ship, other than as quarry. I might have made an example of you if you resisted, but all I wanted was her back aboard the Resplendent Sky, headed for home. Whatever the emperor did with her from there was not my concern.”

“Resplendent Sky is the name of your ship?” I asked.

“She was a fine vessel, and now she’s joined yours below, along with our crew. Miranda was always too clever for her own good. She’s gone much too far this time.”

He poked the fire again, sending sparks and dark smoke roiling upward.

“Why does it smell like that?” I gestured at the fire and billowing oily smoke.

“It was the only wood I could find on the shore. Don’t you see where we are? The Ghasthill Wilds lie north of here. Corruption seeps into everything, can you feel it?”

I looked about, noticing for the first time a sooty covering over the rocks and pebbles of this beach. My gaze wandered north to the dense jungle beyond the shore. Something screeched in there, and I did not much like the sound.

“Next question. Miranda gave you the Sight, didn’t she? You can see into the future, and maybe events far away? That’s how you were able to predict my actions back on your ship.”

“Yes,” I confirmed. “Though I’ve hardly had time to explore it. I feel like I’ve been in a dream the last few days.”

He nodded. “Know this, runes for the Sight and clairvoyance are strictly forbidden. The secrets of these designs are closely guarded secrets. I will also be having words with those whose responsibility it was to guard those secrets. There’s no telling how far her betrayal spreads.”

“Tell me now, and do not lie,” he continued. “When you gained the Sight, could you use it to see her in any way? In any way at all?”

“Yes. I saw the Arbory burning and Dyers screaming. I could predict her movements as I could yours when we fought.”

He nodded. “And of the Auldport warship, did you see that before it arrived?”

I thought a moment. “No, that was a complete surprise to me.”

“Well, that confirms it.” He sighed, tossed his stick onto the fire, and stood.

“I don’t understand?”

“You wouldn’t. You’re no more than a blunt instrument she hurled into my path. What it means is there’s another who launched that warship, someone else with the Sight. It’s impossible for the Sighted to perceive the actions of another possessing those same gifts. If you could see Miranda, but not the warship, then there is some other power tangled up in this.”

He looked about. “It will be dawn soon,” he said. “I suggest you get moving east when the sun rises. Hide at night, build only small fires. Follow the coast and stay out of the Wilds. Don’t stop until you reach the borders of Revenwood. A man of your gifts should be able to make it.”

He faced west and started to leave.

“Wait, you’re not going to kill me? I’m stained.” I sat there feeling a mix of relief and confusion.

“Oh, I’ve not forgotten,” he replied, turning back to face me. “But I also know Miranda expected you to die on the open water. That is perhaps the only part of her plot that didn’t succeed. And her Sighted ally could not know you survived, as your Sight will annul theirs. Whoever this foe is, they do not know you live. This puts you in a unique position of worth.

I need to report back to the emperor. When I need you, trust that I will find you. Farewell.”

With that he turned west and strode off. I watched his back for a while, sitting by the little fire, as sunlight peeked over the mountains to the east and ushered in a new day.

I gathered my thoughts, then set out east for Revenwood. It would be a long journey on foot with no food or water on hand. But I trusted in my new gifts and was eager to explore them on my own.

I wondered where Miranda was right now, and if I would see her again.

Something screeched in the jungle to the north.

I walked.

From The Journal of Captain Rafferty “Raff” Quinn. Dated 18 October 1741.