The morning broke clear, and before long the group found themselves on the pier.
The salty air brushed against their skin, and the scent of the sea grew sharper with every step. The docks stretched out in all directions like a giant web cast along the ocean's edge. Sailors and dockhands had already begun their workday: shouts rang out, pulleys creaked, and the steady thud of boots echoed across the planks.
The family made their way unhurriedly toward the appointed place.
The walk to the harbor took about half an hour. In that time, the twins managed to suppress their bouts of sadness—their eyes were no longer quite so red.
Grace, and even the usually silent Gray, asked their mother more than once why Kaguya could not go with them.
Katherine patiently explained that the journey ahead was dangerous, and friends should not expose one another to risk. That helped calm the anxious twins, at least a little.
When they reached the remote dock, the captain and his crew were already waiting for them.
The ship itself, folded away by magic, still rested inside a bottle that Sinbad held in his hand as he awaited their arrival. The crew was a colorful, mismatched lot—more like a band of mercenaries than true seafaring professionals.
A parrot perched on the captain's shoulder stood out in particular, lazily preening its feathers.
"Whistle, whistle, what a beauty—perfect for a little mischief!" the creature squawked the moment it spotted Katherine. Its voice was surprisingly coarse and resonant, as though one of the sailors had spoken.
One could only imagine how often the bird had heard such expressions while living among pirates. Ahem—respectable seamen.
Noticing the meaningful smile on Cassius's face and the innocent yet intrigued gaze of the little girl, the parrot nearly shed its feathers from fright. It was the little girl who terrified it most.
Although Grace did not understand the parrot's words and took no offense. Her look, filled with pure curiosity—and with the faint desire to dissect the bird to discover how it could speak without a mouth—was enough to silence the bold feathered creature.
"Ahem, forgive the animal. He's an idiot, just repeats whatever he hears. I assure you, it won't happen again," Sinbad hurried to apologize.
"It doesn't matter. Take the ship out—we're leaving at once," Cassia said, still playing the role of head of the family.
"May I see the gold coins?" the captain drawled with a faint smile.
"You expect the second half before we even set foot on board? You'll receive it once we've sailed far enough," Katherine cut in, maintaining her role as a spoiled noblewoman.
"As you wish," Sinbad shrugged, though there was an unmistakable glint of mischief and cunning in his eyes.
He lifted the bottle and carefully pulled out the cork. It seemed unbelievable that such a majestic vessel had managed to fit through the narrow neck without so much as cracking the glass.
The process of release looked utterly magical—the ship appeared to grow out of thin air, while the wind whispered its greeting.
Barely a minute later, a three-deck schooner stood revealed in all its splendor. Its sails had yellowed from salt and time, and its hull had been tempered by countless sea storms.
Sinbad ran his hand gently along the ship's hull, as if stroking living skin.
"Allow me to introduce my pride, my love, and my loyal companion—Violet. I literally grew up on her decks. My first home was the hold, my second—the captain's cabin. This little one left the docks of Riverdale's port city sixty years ago on my father's orders. The old man sold the house, the workshop, even my mother's jewelry. The bastard dreamed his whole life of sailing the oceans and hunting monsters, and I had no choice but to follow him."
Sinbad smirked, lost in the memory.
"The hull is made of Moon Oak from the Morrie groves—it strengthens with every storm it weathers. When the ship survives a tempest, her sides grow denser. The planking comes from Blue Sea Acacia, which grows only along the shores of Arcadia—its fibers never absorb salt, so the ship will never rot. The keel is a single trunk of Iggy Highlands cedar, wood usually reserved for the shafts of the strongest spears. She displaces four hundred tons, yet rides the waves as if she were half that weight."
He presented Violet with such tenderness and care, it was as if he were introducing his own bride to her parents. His words flowed endlessly as he caressed the hull.
"On this little beauty we've crossed seven seas and two oceans. We've sailed to Pratos, Yggdrasil, the Neutral Continent, and of course reached Nightingale and Velnora. We've rounded Cape Storm, passed through the Bay of Loss, and faced sea monsters in battle."
Listening to him, one could not help but notice the genuine admiration and love for his craft. Despite the pirate undertones and mischievous reputation, Sinbad spoke of his ship as a father would of a child entrusted with his entire heart. Pride and nostalgia resonated in his voice.
The schooner lived up to all the praise it had received.
It looked majestic. Every detail—from the deck guns to the neatly coiled ropes—bore the marks of countless adventures, a testament to Violet's experience and resilience.
But it wasn't just the ship that was remarkable.
Under Sinbad's command served seven seasoned sailors, each looking like a hardened rogue, and three teenage novices. At first glance, it seemed hardly enough: hunting sea monsters and crossing oceans required a much larger crew for navigation, maintenance, and processing the catch.
Yet Sinbad believed he needed only loyal, strong, and capable subordinates—those he had personally trained. He disliked sailing with hired hands from the port.
The daring captain knew from bitter experience that the open sea was a lawless place. It was there, most often, that the vilest betrayals occurred. Who would take responsibility for a man's disappearance if he "fell overboard drunk" or "was dragged away by a siren"?
Once, Sinbad himself had found himself in exactly such a situation.
His first mate, who had served aboard his ship for about two years and had earned a solid reputation with the crew, had decided to betray him in order to claim Violet for himself.
It required little effort—he simply took advantage of the opportunity. One night, when most of Sinbad's trusted sailors were already asleep, he and his accomplice found the sleeping captain, struck him senseless with an oar, and threw his body overboard.
It wasn't until morning that the crew noticed their captain was missing. There was no blood anywhere. In his cabin, they found dozens of empty rum bottles. When one sailor—an accomplice in the crime—claimed he had seen the captain climb the mast the previous night, everyone understood the reason for his disappearance. And with that, the investigation ended, leaving the first mate to successfully take ownership of the ship.
It was a well-known tale among seafarers, who loved to recount their adventures over rum and reckless bravado.
During the investigation, Cassia had also heard this famous port story. Yet it remained a mystery how, three days later, Sinbad had been found in a small boat, rowing back toward his ship with his ever-present bottle of rum.
Since then, the man had gone to sea only with a select few subordinates—the very crew the group of four now observed.
As for the three teenagers, there was nothing remarkable—they were just ordinary deckhands. From the entire crew, two stood out.
One was a short, narrow-eyed man of about thirty, clearly a representative of the most ancient and mysterious Six Pillars Empire, one of the four great empires on the continent of Alaz, alongside the Magical and Roman empires. He held the position of Pilot.
The second was a plump cook, a frying pan perched on his head. He simply looked odd.
After surveying the crew and making some assessments, Katherine gave the signal to board.
As they walked up the gangplank, Sinbad courteously offered his hand to the lady and the children. Katherine ignored him, having recently developed a genuine aversion to the man's touch.
The children innocently followed her example, leaving the captain awkwardly rubbing his nose in embarrassment.
The deck of Violet was spotless to an almost unnatural degree. At its center stood a massive helm. On either side, ropes and masts were neatly coiled and stacked. Various crates of weapons and containers were within easy reach, ready for any need.
The ship looked immaculate. Only the scent of rum wafting up from the hold reminded the travelers of the company they were keeping.
Gray and Grace watched in awe as the crew executed the captain's commands with precision and skill while the ship eased out of the bay.
Everywhere there was the pounding and chatter of sailors, the whistling of taut ropes, and Sinbad's commands. He held a saber like a pointer, directing his subordinates where to place each item.
To the twins, it felt as though they were stepping into one of the legendary stories their mother had always told them before bed.
"Cast off the moorings!"
"Hoist the anchor!"
"Let out the lines!"
"Unfurl!"
"Set course for open sea!"
"Row the starboard side!"
"Stand down!"
"Now together!"
"One, two. One, two! One, two!"
"Set a southeast course!"
"Row the port side!"
"Stand down!"
"Raise the oars!"
"Hoist the sails!"
"Full speed ahead—for courage, wealth, and adventure!"
Cassia stood at the stern of the ship beside Katherine, gazing at the horizon. The mistress's face was unusually somber.
In the three months of their journey, she had never seen her so openly expressive.
Cassia had occasionally noticed subtle signs of melancholy, but Katherine always quickly masked them with a calm demeanor. Only now, as the continent of Alaz receded ever further, did she allow herself to give in to the sense of loss.
Looking back, Katherine realized that her life in the Roman Empire had been painfully lonely and sad. Four years spent in the company of children and a maid.
"What went wrong? Why did he do this?"
Somewhere deep inside, defying logic and reason, she still hoped that Adam would catch up to them, apologize, and vow to protect their family with his life, as any true husband and father should.
But he never came. He had left her. Betrayed her.
No! He had never loved her at all!
"Milady, are you all right?" Cassia asked timidly.
Katherine barely raised her eyes. "Tell me, Cassia… am I smart? Am I strong? Am I beautiful?" she asked softly, almost in a whisper.
"What?.. What kind of question is that?.. I don't know about smart or strong, but you are definitely the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," the maid answered honestly, flustered by the unexpected question.
Katherine closed her eyes and clenched her fists.
"Then tell me… why did he betray me? Why did Adam…"—she paused, searching for words, but none came.
"A god's command? A prophecy? Suspicion? I just don't believe in any of that nonsense. Rulers don't think like mortals. And he… he was a perfect ruler, strong, capable, attentive… I watched him command the nobility with ease, manipulate the senate, and I saw the fire in his eyes… his love for me. I was certain he loved me. I watched him for a whole year… He couldn't have just abandoned me. It was obsession. If I had asked him to betray the empire for me, he would have done it without hesitation… So why?"
Her voice trembled, her words breaking apart.
"Since that night, it's as if he vanished. He ignored me, never tried to touch me, never said a word. I couldn't have been that awful! And even if I was… damn it, it was my first time!"
She opened her eyes, and her face showed a mixture of pain and confusion.
"I could have given him everything: power, status, allies… I could have been his strength and his beauty. Play political games with him?—Easier than breathing. Get rid of Claudius and Aurelius?—God, I'm a Skyborn! Rise in the senate?—Just ask. Nothing matters more than advantage, and I could have given him everything he could ever want.
So why am I left alone? Why? WHY?!"
Tears slid slowly down her cheeks. Anger and bitterness gradually gave way to complete bewilderment. Katherine stared into the distance, trying to find even a shred of logic in the betrayal, but her mind refused to grasp why the man she loved had left her alone.
A minute of silence answered her.
What could Cassia say? She had no idea. She truly thought Adam was the biggest fool, but she knew he wasn't.
The two women, believing they had stifled all sound, didn't notice the captain's eyes widen at that very moment.
The ship sailed farther and farther away, drifting out from the continent of Alaz.
On the roof of one of the buildings in Stormdale, a girl in a yellow dress sat quietly, face buried in her knees, silently crying.
"Goodbye, Anna. No… Grace… Goodbye, Katherine. Goodbye, Gray… Goodbye, Cassius, neko-servant of the 'child of prophecy'… I will always love you," she whispered, clutching a blue stone in her hand.