I was sitting in our room, staring at the dark. The night had spread itself like an old velvet cloth over everything, and sleep was a stranger to me. Everyone else lay in slumber, faces softened by dreams, while I remained awake. Perhaps it was the excitement of returning to the sea, or perhaps it was just me. I could not tell. The room smelled faintly of wax , remnants of candles burned low and of the sea carried in through the open window. The wood floor creaked slightly under some shifting weight outside, or maybe it was only my imagination.
The window was open, and the moon hung full and round in the sky, a pale lantern suspended in a dark ocean above. The wind drifted in lazily, carrying with it the scent of salt and distant waves, brushing against my face with a teasing chill. Behind a cloud, something green flickered, sudden and brief. A lantern, I thought, but the light vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving only the soft silver of the moon. I closed my eyes, muttering to myself that there would be plenty of work tomorrow and no time for staring at ghosts or lanterns that toyed with tired minds. Still, the memory lingered, like a pulse I could not shake.
I thought of the sea. Its roar, its endless stretch, its unforgiving nature. I thought of the storms that had thrown men overboard, the whispers of monsters beneath the waves, and the Black Mark that loomed, invisible yet present, like a shadow pressed against the edge of my consciousness. Excitement and dread tangled together in my chest, each trying to claim dominance. My fingers drummed on the windowsill as I wrestled with them, impatient for the dawn yet unwilling to let go of the night's quiet.
Morning arrived sooner than expected. The Traven was alive with movement, the collecting and eating areas bustling with early risers. The smell of fresh bread mingled with the brine of salted fish and the faint tang of tar from the docks. I could hear the clatter of plates, the low murmur of conversation, the occasional shout of a crew member as he dropped something heavy. Elhaan held a loaf in one hand and gestured toward me with the other, pointing to the places where I was to gather the crew. His movements were precise, almost practiced, and yet there was a weight to them, as if every gesture carried a lesson I was yet to learn.
"And now you will head to Andorsa," he said, his voice calm, deliberate. "After feathering the crew, we shall meet again."
I nodded silently, memorizing each location, marking them in my mind as if they were tiny stars I had to navigate by. We did not linger in conversation. Zaman had already taken some sacks, his movements smooth and economical, and I had mine ready as well. Over the time spent with him, I had gained a small glimpse of his character. He spoke little, moved with strength and precision, and obeyed instructions without question. He slept rarely, and his eating habits were curious. He nibbled at most things like a man uninterested in food, yet when fish was served, he devoured it as if he had been starving for days. I had begun to wonder if he had ever known the luxury of a simple meal or if hunger itself had shaped the contours of his being.
By the time we reached the ship, morning had fully arrived. The harbor was noisy with shouts, laughter, and the smell of cooking fires mingling with sea salt. Men half-awake carried dry meat, some still swaying with the remnants of the festival night. Others shouted about hiring crew, voices cracking under the weight of too much drink and too little sleep. A young boy tripped over a coil of rope, cursing under his breath, and an older sailor scowled at him from across the dock. I watched them for a moment, thinking of how many faces I would never know, yet each would be bound to us by this journey.
Our concern was different. Our ship, the Daggers Oath, sat beside a smelly old vessel, indifferent to the chaos around it. We loaded our supplies, stacking sacks and barrels with careful precision. The ropes smelled of tar, and the planks beneath our boots were slick with morning dew. One slip could have sent a crate tumbling into the harbor. Everyone was aboard the ship, except Elhaan and me. Imran, already done with his arrangements, nodded in silent agreement to Elhaan.
Elhaan met my gaze, and I felt a weight settle in my chest. "Well," he said, "time to part ways. After gathering the crew, we will meet at Snagakata. By then, I will have something on the Black Mark to search for."
I nodded slowly, murmuring under my breath, "Take care, merchant of death." He paid no heed. A man leapt from the smelly ship beside us, probably a whale hunter, carrying a stench that made me wrinkle my nose. I ignored it and climbed the ladder aboard our ship. Zaman Zee was already on the rail, poised and motionless as if part of the ship itself.
I glanced at Elhaan one last time. My eyes were full of determination, though I doubted he could see it. He waved slightly and turned away without looking back. Slowly, the Daggers Oath drifted from the shore. Black clouds gathered overhead, heavy and brooding, and the first drops of rain kissed my neck. I thought perhaps it would storm soon, and the wind carried a cold bite that made me shiver.
The rigging creaked as Zaman disappeared into the work of steering the ship with his web. He was skilled at it, and I was grateful I did not have to run all over, shouting instructions or correcting mistakes. My hands rested on the rail as I watched the town shrink behind us. Smoke curled from chimneys like ghostly fingers, the cries of dockhands and the people fading beneath the growing rhythm of the waves.
Somewhere beyond the horizon waited whatever fate had in store. Stories of the Black Mark haunted every harbor I had ever visited, whispers of men lost to madness or swallowed by the sea. I had thought them tales for children and drunkards, yet the weight of them pressed on me now, heavier than the rope coils at my feet. And yet, the pull of adventure was stronger than fear. My chest tightened with the thrill of the unknown.
The sea stretched before us, endless and untamed. The wind sang in my ears, the smell of salt filled my lungs, and the ship rocked gently under my hands. Somewhere, the waves hid secrets, and perhaps, in some distant, unseen place, monsters waited. But I was ready. I had to be. The first day of our real adventure had begun, and I could not look back.
1st arc ended Bois .
To be continued.....