Chapter 18
Memory
"Here we go again…" Kaep sighed, collapsing into the nearest chair.
The table in front of him, carved from dark-varnished wood, must have been expensive once. Now it was scarred with scratches and dents, as if someone had thrown it around more than once and forced it back into place.
Kaep leaned his elbows on it and buried his hands in his hair, massaging his scalp as if he could squeeze an answer out of it.
"They'll be thinking about fighting…" he murmured. "If it's fighting, I couldn't help."
He let out a frustrated breath, slowly lowered his hands, and rested one on his chin, thoughtful.
"Or maybe I could…" His voice was lower, doubtful. "After all… they're fish. And in a scenario like this, I'd be the one who benefits most."
He fell silent, sunk in the contradiction of his own thoughts, until the girl's voice jolted him out of it.
"Kaep… aren't you one of the marked from Takran Academy?"
The question disarmed him. He opened his mouth to deny it, but the words didn't come immediately.
"No… I don't remember." His brow furrowed. Something didn't fit.
He remembered thousands of things easily; he'd always had a privileged memory. The weird thing wasn't the girl's question, the weird thing was his emptiness. And that emptiness weighed too much.
The silence stretched until dragging footsteps broke the charged air. The alchemist approached, with that tired walk that seemed to measure every movement.
"I've been thinking about what you said," he began, settling himself beside the table. "Perhaps… yours is a side effect of the potion."
The words hit Kaep like a bucket of cold water. He straightened up in the chair with a jolt.
"What?"
The alchemist tilted his head, as if it were obvious.
"When you fainted… well, you didn't actually faint before taking it." He interrupted himself, corrected himself, toying with a vial in his hand. "You drank it while you were asleep. I gave it to you."
Kaep felt a knot tighten in his stomach. A strong pulse throbbed in his temples.
"You gave it to me while I was unconscious?"
"Partly to help you. It was clear you were in a bad way… a very bad way." The alchemist lowered his gaze, as if seeking justification in the wood grain. "And partly… out of curiosity. I wanted to know what would happen if the potion was administered to someone asleep."
Kaep's face tightened. The man he had until then seen as eccentric and useful suddenly revealed himself as something far more unsettling. He stared at him, with a mix of disbelief and contained rage.
He took a deep breath, trying not to explode.
"Fine," he said at last, squeezing the words like stones between his teeth. "Then explain to me what that potion does. What I was supposed to feel. And what the side effects are… the known ones."
The alchemist blinked, as if he'd been waiting for that question from the start.
The alchemist crossed his arms and cleared his throat before answering.
"It's a storm potion." He said it as if it were obvious, as if anyone should recognize that name. "It's designed precisely for situations like this."
Kaep arched an eyebrow, impatient.
"And what does that mean?"
"It means it reduces almost completely the effects of being caught in a storm, especially on a ship like this." The alchemist rapped his knuckles on the table, marking the rhythm of his words. "Nausea, cold, damp, disorientation… even vomiting. All of that is nullified or, at worst, greatly reduced."
He leaned forward, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret.
"On a ship of these dimensions, with a gyroscope as poorly designed as ours, it's practically indispensable. Otherwise, you'd be doubled over on the floor by now."
Kaep listened with a furrowed brow, but his breathing gradually calmed. The explanation had nothing to do with his memory. The potion wasn't to blame.
A tepid relief settled in his chest, though it didn't last long.
"And the adverse effects?" he asked, not taking his eyes off him.
The alchemist sighed and raised a finger, counting them off.
"It depends on the person. Some feel fatigue, others have balance issues. But among the worst recorded effects is a loss of stability on land." He said it without drama, as if discussing the weather.
Kaep went still, assimilating the idea. His initial calm cracked.
Okay, his memory wasn't affected by the potion. But that only left a bigger, more unsettling mystery: why had he forgotten about Takran Academy?
And besides, another concern was beginning to gnaw at him from within.
"When we reach land…" he murmured, barely audible. "What happens if that side effect happens to me?"
The alchemist didn't answer immediately. He just looked at him, with that neutral expression that never clarified whether he was calculating, or if he simply didn't care.
Kaep was still ruminating on the alchemist's answer, the doubts hooked in his mind like fishhooks, when the girl's voice pulled him from the whirlwind.
"If you're so worried… why not talk with me?" she said softly, leaning toward him. "Perhaps, if we talk, you can start to sort out those gaps."
He looked up, surprised. For a moment, he didn't know how to respond. The idea seemed simple, almost naive, but also charged with a strange logic: who better than an outsider to help him fit together the pieces that were escaping him?
"Thank you…" he muttered, letting out a sigh he'd been holding for a while. "I accept."
She smiled faintly, and the tension that had been floating over the table seemed to dissipate a little. They both settled in, ready to begin.
But just before the first word could pass between them, a metallic crash reverberated from the other side of the door. It was a dry, heavy blow, as if something had fallen with force or slammed against the frame.
The table vibrated under Kaep's arms. The girl's smile froze. The alchemist slowly turned his head toward the entrance, his face blank.
The air tensed again, as if the newly started conversation had been completely snatched away.
***
[Laios's Perspective]
Laios tensed the moment he heard the first crash. The officer was already stepping forward and the burly man was cracking his knuckles, as if the sound alone had been an order to get ready. The three formed an improvised line in front of the door.
The noise didn't stop. Muffled blows, growing faster, made the walls vibrate. The flickering light of the lamps barely held, as if the entire hallway was being shaken from within.
And then, the safety lighting failed with a spark. The gloom swallowed half the corridor just as the creature emerged.
The fish cryptid.
Laios recognized it immediately, but something was different. It was the same six-limbed being, yes, but now it looked more twisted, as if wrenched from the inside, every bone forced in an impossible direction. The creature advanced slowly, without its former frenzy. Patient. Almost calculating.
When it took a step under the one lamp still holding out, the light revealed its form in disturbing detail: its head, elongated like a torn tongue, stretched forward, and the dangling jaw hung open like a hood hiding part of its skull.
It observed them in silence. Three prey, lined up. Three firm figures waiting for it.
Then it raised one of its six arms. There was no roar, no immediate attack. Just that gesture. The extended finger, moving from side to side, pointing at each of them.
One. Two. Three.
Laios felt the weight of the creature's gaze, as if that simple count was more threatening than any charge.
The three didn't move, rooted in place, but not a single muscle relaxed. On the contrary, every second of that silence stretched them tighter, like cords about to snap.
Before, the two of us couldn't handle one… but now there are three of us, Laios thought, trying to bolster his courage, though he knew the creature facing them wasn't the same as before. Something in its twisted form, in that almost mocking calm, told him the challenge was greater.
Laios gripped firmly the sword he'd scavenged from a nearby room. It wasn't the best blade, the edge was notched, but it was better than nothing. Beside him, the officer held a single-edged sword, more balanced, of medium length: light enough to move quickly, but with enough weight to cut seriously.
The burly man, in contrast, looked like a beast ready to be unleashed. In each hand he held an 'Arde': reinforced gloves from which emerged metallic threads tipped with steel spikes, like claws connected by a cable. Each extension was almost a meter and a half long, and when they moved they emitted a tense sound, like chains wanting to break free.
Before them, the cryptid remained motionless, its arm still half-raised. Beneath that strange jaw-like carapace no eyes were distinguishable; yet they all felt it looking at them. It was impossible to deny that it knew their exact position, that it perceived them with an unsettling clarity.
The creature slowly lowered its arm. The gesture, far from relaxing, sent a shiver down Laios's spine. It was as if it had finished counting… and the real game was about to begin.
The silence was broken only by the sparks from the broken lamps in the hallway. Each flash revealed a piece of the monster's twisted silhouette, approaching with that unbearable calm.
And then, without warning, the calm shattered.
A devastating roar shook the corridor as the cryptid leaped toward them. The air tore with the impact of its body launched like a projectile. The three reacted instinctively: a synchronized jump backward, almost in unison, avoiding the direct collision.
The monster caught itself on the floor using its two extra limbs, with an impossible balance, and from that position launched another attack, a brutal sweep.
The burly man crossed his Ardes, seeking to block it. The tensioned cables violently interlaced, slamming against the walls, embedding themselves in both the floor and the ceiling. The impact shattered the gloves that held them, and the metal lodged like an improvised trap.
The weapon's tension took the brunt of the cryptid's assault. A metallic roar accompanied the moment the threads savagely snapped, tearing through wood and stone in their path. The force of the collision was such that part of the cabling tangled around the creature's arms.
There was an instant of resistance, a struggle, and then the cuts. The metal tips managed to tear its grayish skin, but didn't get past superficial wounds. Mere scratches for a body that seemed built to withstand much more.
The officer, Laios, and the burly man hit the ground almost simultaneously. Not a single glance passed between them: they immediately turned and sprinted down the hallway.
The monster didn't hesitate to follow. The sound coming from its body was grotesque, a mix of bone-cracking and animal roar that made the walls vibrate. Each footstep thundered on the floor, closing the distance.
They ran at full speed, dodging fallen furniture and corpses that obstructed the path. Sometimes they had to jump over mutilated bodies that still blocked parts of the corridor. And behind them, getting closer every second, the cryptid advanced with a ferocity that threatened to swallow them whole in a single strike.
Laios could feel it on the back of his neck: the monster was gaining on them.