Gathering Storm And Moonlight Promises

Author's Note

- Ahoy me hearties! This ol' pirate be feelin' a might lonely out here on the high seas of writin'. Me latest chapter be up on deck, and shiver me timbers, I poured me heart into it!

But now I be needin' yer help, me loyal crew! Tell me, be this chapter a treasure worth plunderin', or should it be tossed to the kraken?

So fire away, me loyal crew! Tell me what ye think! Be it "Aye, a fine read, Captain!" or "Shiver me timbers, what be this bilgewater?", anythin' be better than the sound o' crickets chirpin' in the hold.

Leave a comment in the bottle below and let me know yer thoughts! Even a simple "Aye, Captain, 'tis a good yarn" warms this ol' salt's heart. I be relyin' on ya, me mateys! Don't leave me to the silence of the deep!

An' if ye REALLY be likin' what ye read, slap that like button like it be stealin' yer booty!

Fair winds and followin' seas, ye scurvy dogs!

Ian Flint.

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As I pushed open the creaky wooden door of "The Hornet's Lair," a wave of raucous laughter washed over me. The place reeks of ale, sweat, and probably a few other things I'd rather not identify. Dim lanterns cast long shadows across weathered faces, and the cacophony of drunken laughter and slurred sea shanties assaulted my ears.

Anchorfell, being a bustling harbor, was home to a myriad of taverns like this one, open at all hours to cater to the insatiable thirsts of seafarers and wanderers alike. Months at sea seemed to instill a sort of lethargy in people, a phenomenon I've never quite understood. It was as if the sea drained them of their vitality, and they sought to reclaim it through excessive indulgence the moment they set foot on land.

But who am I to judge?

I have my own vices.

Scanning the room, I spot a few familiar faces among the crowd of sailors, mercenaries, and what I can only assume are failed adventurers drowning their sorrows. But the one I'm looking for is tucked away in a corner, nose buried in a book.

I saunter over and plop myself down across her. "Afternoon, sunshine."

Nothing. Not even a flicker of acknowledgment. Just the soft rustle of a turning page.

"Where's Luke?"

Without looking up, she pointed towards the bar. I crane my neck and spot him carefully balancing a tray of drinks. "Ah, playing waiter, is he? When are you going to learn to fetch your own poison, Elara?"

That earned me a glare that could freeze hellfire. She doesn't dignify me with a response, just returns to her book.

Luke arrived, setting down two frothy mugs of ale. Before Elara's fingers can so much as graze her cup, I snatch it up and take a hearty swig.

"Oi! You whoreson!" She exploded. "That's my bloody drink!"

Ignoring her outburst, I smacked my lips appreciatively. "Luke, my friend, your taste in ale is as impeccable as ever. Almost makes up for your choice in women."

He simply slides his untouched mug towards Elara. She snatches it up, still glowering at me. "Fuck you," she muttered, taking a long pull from the cup, still cursing me in her mind, no doubt.

I grinned, leaning back in my chair. "Now that we're all here and properly lubricated," I say, raising my (well, Elara's) mug, "we've got some serious matters to discuss."

"Did they fire you already?"

I grinned. "The only one getting thrown around here will be a certain sailor who can't tie her own boots properly."

Elara's eyes narrowed. "I'll show you how well I can tie a knot, right around your scrawny neck, you prick."

Luke raised a hand, cutting off our banter. "Alright, you two. Aedan, what exactly did you want to discuss?"

I told them. About the meeting. About the Emperor (Elara's jaw actually dropped - a rare sight indeed), the dwindling skythrall reserves, the lost expedition, the whispers of Elysara... and the mission.

"So... you were actually debriefed by the Emperor himself?" Luke asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Elara leaned forward, her book forgotten. "And you agreed to this madness?"

"Well...When the Emperor asks you something, you don't exactly say 'no thanks, I've got laundry to do."

I took another long pull off my ale. Gods, Luke

did

know how to pick 'em. It was cold, and crisp, with a hint of something nutty and a bittersweet aftertaste.

The silence stretched between us, broken only by the raucous laughter around. The Hornet's Lair was a melting pot tonight. At a nearby table, a group of dwarves was engaged in a heated arm-wrestling match, their thick beards quivering with each grunt of effort. In another corner, a lithe elf was entertaining a small crowd with sleight-of-hand tricks, coins, and small objects seemingly appearing and disappearing at will.

Elara was the first to break the spell. "This is insane, Aedan. The risks are... astronomical."

"Big risks, big rewards."

"Big risks, big coffins," she retorted sharply.

"Come on, Where's your sense of adventure?"

"I left it in my other pants, along with my death wish. You do remember what happened to the first crew, right?"

"It's not just the danger. The complexity of this mission is..." Luke pointed out. "well, it's daunting. We're talking about finding an island that might not even exist."

"Oh, it exists alright," I said, taking another swig of ale. "The Emperor seemed pretty convinced."

"And since when did you start trusting authority figures?" Elara asked.

I clutched my chest. "You wound me, truly. I'll have you know I'm a model citizen."

"Right, and I'm the Queen of Sheba."

"But seriously, Aedan, Vermilion factor complicates things. We don't even know how far along they are." Luke voiced.

"True enough. Given the intel we have, I wouldn't be surprised if they've already set sail."

"Fantastic," Elara groaned, rubbing her temples. "So not only is this mission suicidal, but we're already playing catch-up. Could this get any shittier?"

"Well," I mused, "we could be doing this sober."

"Not helping, you ass."

"Look," I said, leaning forward and lowering my voice. "I know it sounds mad. Hell, it probably is. But think about what's at stake here. It's not just about glory or riches."

Luke nodded slowly, a thoughtful look on his face. "You're right about that. If Vermilion gets their hands on Elysara's skythrall deposits..."

"We're fucked," She finished bluntly.

"Eloquently put, as always," I smirked.

"So what's your brilliant plan then?"

I grinned. "Well, first we finish these ales. Then we commandeer a bigger ship, gather a crew crazy enough to follow us, and sail off into the unknown."

Luke raised an eyebrow. "That's not a plan, Aedan. That's a vague outline of a suicide mission."

"Details, details," I waved dismissively. "We'll figure it out as we go."

Elara groaned. "Oh, that's reassuring. 'Figure it out as we go.' Might as well write our own epitaphs now."

"Come on," I added. "When have I ever steered you wrong?"

The silence that followed was so heavy it could have anchored a battleship. Both Elara and Luke stared at me with identical deadpan expressions that made me wonder if they'd been secretly practicing that in the mirror.

"Alright, alright," I conceded. "But this time it's different. This isn't just some harebrained scheme of stunt. This is for Thalassar."

"Since when did you become so patriotic?" Luke asked, genuinely curious.

"Patriotic?" I snorted. "Me? Don't be daft, Luke. I leave the flag-waving to the politicians and the academy freshmen. But..." I hesitated, trying to find the words. "Thalassar...it's home, I guess. Flawed, infuriating, occasionally smells like a wet dog... but it's

ours

. And besides..." I gave them a ragged grin. "Opportunity of a lifetime, eh? To find Elysara... to make history? Not every day a man gets to thumb his nose at fate and sail off into legend, wouldn't you say?"

For a long moment, silence fell between us. The tavern noise faded, the clatter of mugs, the laughter, the tuneless singing of a ballad about a lovesick mermaid - all of it distant, unreal.

Elara looks at me, then at Luke, and exhales deeply. "You're really set on doing this, aren't you?"

"I am. With or without you, I'm going. But I'd rather it be with you. You know I trust you both with my life, and I can't think of anyone else I'd rather have by my side for this."

"So," I continued, "Are you in, or are you out?"

Elara sighed heavily. "You know I can't let you go off and get yourself killed. Who else is going to save your sorry ass?"

"We're in," Luke said, leaning in. "But we need a plan, Aedan. A real one. Not one of your usual...spur-of-the-moment improvisations."

I couldn't help grinning. "Relax. I've got most things covered."

"Of course you do," Elara said dryly, but I caught the glint of excitement in her eyes. "So... what's the first order of business, Captain?"

"Crew." I slid a slip of paper across the table. "We need a handful of the best, most adaptable - and slightly

cracked

- sods in the entire Azure Expanse. Volunteers only, of course. Not many sane folks sign up for a suicide mission."

Luke whistled as he scanned the list. "You're really going all out, aren't you? Are you sure about some of these names?"

"Desperate times," I said turning to Elara. "As for you, I need you to handle provisions. I want the best rations, the most advanced equipment, medical supplies, the works."

"How much can I spend?"

"Let's just say the royal coffers are at our disposal. Go wild."

"Are you sure it's wise to put her in charge of—" Luke began, but Elara cut him off with a sharp elbow to the ribs.

"Don't you dare question our captain, darling" she snapped, her eyes lighting up at the prospect of a shopping spree.

I couldn't help but chuckle. Elara always had a complicated relationship with money. Growing up without it, one would think she'd value it more. But instead, she's developed a knack for spending it like water. Her salary usually disappeared within a week, spent on all sorts of trinkets and luxuries.

"Just try to remember we're outfitting a ship, not buying out half of Anchorfell," I cautioned, knowing full well it was futile.

"Now, Luke," I continued, "I need you to oversee the ship modifications. We'll need every advantage we can get. I'm talking enhanced cannons, reinforced hull, the works. And see if you can find a way to squeeze a bit more speed out of her."

He nodded. "I might have a few ideas. There's this new alloy I've been wanting to experiment with..."

"Perfect. Make it happen." I clapped my hands together. "Right, that's the basics covered."

"So, what are you going to do while we're running around like headless chickens?" Elara asked, leaning back in her chair.

I stretched, my back cracking against the wall. "Tonight? A good rest. Tomorrow..." I paused. "I've got to pay a visit to a certain witch."

I could practically

feel

the memory of our last encounter - dark eyes, a voice like velvet and steel, and a body that could make a saint forget his vows - heating my blood.

Gods, I couldn't believe I was going to see

her

again.

I glanced at Elara and Luke, expecting the usual torrent of abuse... but they were just

staring

, their faces unnervingly blank.

"What?"

They burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the tavern.

"Oh, for the love of—what's so damn funny?"

"You should see your face!" Elara howled, slapping the table so hard her ale sloshed over the rim. "Like a wee lad who's just discovered what's under a lady's blouse!"

"I'd say more like a puppy who's found his favorite chew toy," Luke added, grinning ear to ear.

"Piss off, both of you."

"Ooh, the big bad captain, off to see his magical mistress. Should we expect fireballs or love potions?"

"Maybe he'll come back turned into a toad," Luke chimed in. "Might be an improvement, actually."

Elara wasn't done. "Gonna ask her to polish your wand, are you? Bet you're already pitching a tent under the table, eh?"

"Are you two quite finished?"

They exchanged glances, then looked back at me. "Not even close," they said in unison.

I sighed, realizing that further argument would be as effective as bailing out a sinking ship with a thimble.

"Right, very amusing. Can we get back to the matter at hand?"

They nodded, faces suddenly serious, but I could see the corners of their mouths twitching.

Elara raised her mug. "To Elysara," she toasted, then added with a pointed look at me, "and to not making complete asses of ourselves."

"Speak for yourself," I muttered but clinked my mug against hers anyway.

* * *

The door creaked softly as I stepped into my sanctuary. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow that danced across the wooden floor. The distant sound of waves crashing against the shore fills the air, a lullaby that has soothed me on countless nights.

Shedding my uniform, I allowed myself a brief, hot shower washing away the day. I pulled on a pair of loose linen trousers and left my chest bare. No sense in courting a chill, but gods, it felt good to be out of that confining uniform.

The cool night air felt good against my skin as I padded barefoot to the kitchen. Living alone had its perks, but it also meant becoming your own chef. I set about preparing a simple meal, my hands working on autopilot while my mind wandered.

This voyage... this sudden mission. It was madness, really.

A thousand things could go wrong, and probably would. We could sail for weeks and find nothing.

The mythical island of Elysara, once nothing more than fodder for drunken sailors' tales and children's bedtime stories, was now a tangible goal. A destination that could bring either unprecedented glory or unimaginable doom.

And then there was...her.

Tomorrow. I was meeting her again. The woman who haunted my dreams... and my waking hours, if I was being honest with myself.

It had been some time since we'd last met, and yet the memory of her still sent a shiver down my spine. Would she help us? Could she?

Can I even convince her to join?

The sizzle of meat in the pan brought me back to reality. I was just about to plate up my late-night dinner when a sharp rap on the door shattered the peaceful quiet.

Who in the blazes.... at this hour?

Grumbling, I made my way, ready to give whoever it was a piece of my mind. But as I swung it open, all words died in my throat.

I'm greeted by those piercing blue eyes again—Seren.

Her gaze lowered momentarily to my bare chest before meeting my eyes again. "Do you ever wear clothes in this house, or is this the standard uniform?"

"Only on special occasions."

"Am I interrupting?"

I stepped aside with a flourish, "Not at all. Please, bless my humble abode with your presence."

She chuckled, a sound that sent a pleasant shiver down my spine and stepped inside.

"So," I said, closing the door behind her, "to what do I owe this pleasure? Not that I'm complaining, mind you.".

Seren shrugged, a coy smile playing on her lips. "Just decided to take you up on that ale you were going on about earlier."

"Ah, right.....I seem to remember you rejecting that offer quite firmly."

"Changed my mind," she said simply, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Well, since it's already pretty late, how about I treat you to dinner instead? I promise it's only slightly less dangerous than my company."

"Dinner? At this hour?"

I gestured grandly towards the stove. "Behold, a culinary masterpiece crafted by yours truly."

"You can cook?"

"Don't sound so shocked," I laughed. "I live alone. It was either learn to cook or subsist on hardtack and rum. Though the latter was tempting."

Seren moved closer to the stove, inhaling deeply. "It actually smells... edible."

"High praise indeed," I said dryly. "Care to risk it?"

"Please. I've eaten in far worse places. There was this one tavern in a backwater port where the stew was more maggot than meat. I think your cooking should be a step up from that."

I winced dramatically. "Well, when you put it that way, I suppose my culinary skills might just shine in comparison. Though I can't promise a complete absence of maggots."

As I dished up our late-night meal, Seren leaned against the counter, watching me with an amused expression. "So, is this how you impress all the ladies? Lure them in with promises of ale, then subject them to your culinary experiments?"

"I'll have you know, my cooking has been known to make grown men weep... though whether from joy or despair is still up for debate."

Her laughter filled the room, a sound I found myself wanting to hear more of.

"Shall we?" I asked, nodding towards the living room.

We settled onto the worn but comfortable sofa, plates balanced on our laps.

"This is... surprisingly good, Aedan." Seren took a bite, her eyes widening in genuine appreciation. "I wouldn't have pegged you for the domestic type."

"What's so surprising about it?"

"The

infamous

Captain, whipping up a culinary masterpiece in his cozy little cottage? It's not exactly the image I had in mind."

"Infamous?"

"Oh, come off it. Everyone in the Navy knows who you are. The youngest captain in decades, a rising star..." Her voice trailed off, and she took a sip of her wine, those blue eyes meeting mine over the rim of the glass. "They say you have a knack for... trouble."

"Well, when you put it that way. Though I prefer 'notoriously charming' to 'infamous'. Has a better ring to it, don't you think?"

"More like notoriously full of yourself."

"High praise indeed," I chuckled. "I'm content knowing that such a beautiful lass as yourself is aware of my existence. Infamous or otherwise."

She rolled her eyes. "Do you ever stop with the flirting?"

"Not when I'm in the company of such a...delightful companion. "

"Smooth talker."

"It's a gift," I shrugged, helping myself to another bite.

"I'm sure it is. So, apart from cooking and sailing, do you have any other hidden talents?"

I leaned back, a mischievous glint in my eye. "Many, but some are best discovered, not disclosed."

"Really?"

"Absolutely. Life's more fun with a little mystery, don't you think?"

"Depends on the mystery," she countered, taking a bite of stew. I watched as she savored it, a small smile curving her lips. Gods, I was a sucker for a woman who appreciated a good meal. And this one...

"Well, I'd say I'm quite the enigma worth unraveling."

She snorted. "And modest too, I see."

"It's part of my charm," I winked. "Speaking of which, fancy a drink? I've got a bottle of wine waiting for just such an occasion."

"Wine? Ah, trying to get me drunk now, are you?"

"Merely offering the finest hospitality my humble abode can provide, Seren."

"Right..." She drawled, but her eyes sparkled. "In that case... how could I refuse?"

I crossed to the cabinet, feeling her eyes on me, and pulled out the bottle of Calderan red. I'd been saving it for... something. This definitely qualified. The cork came out with a satisfying

pop

, and I poured the wine, its rich, fruity aroma filling the small space.

Handing her a glass, I raised it in a toast.

"To unexpected visits and mysterious talents."

She clinked her glass against mine. "And to captains who can somehow cook."

We sipped the wine, talking about this and that. I kept, wondering what had really brought her here tonight.

"So, Seren? What brings someone like you to the navy?"

"That's... a long story."

"Good thing we've got time."

And so, Seren told me her story.

Her father was a minor noble with more titles than gold and a deep-seated belief in duty to Thalassar. Her older brother - a naval officer, a hero, a legend in her eyes - who'd died in a skirmish with a band of Vermilion privateers. And Seren, the younger sister, determined to honor his memory... and maybe prove a point or two along the way. She'd joined the Academy, excelled in her studies, and quickly risen through the ranks.