"Shoot!" Annabelle curses. She pulls her hand back from searching the thorny bush. Inspecting her finger, she sucks the pain away.
"Ms. Annabelle," a concerned Yoshi peers over her shoulder.
Smiling, "I am fine, it's nothing. Any luck?" Yoshi shakes his head in disappointment.
"Well," she returns to her search in the foliage, "we will just have to keep looking. There has to be one around here somewhere."
Yoshi sighs, his shoulders slumping as he trudges through the overgrown vegetation, searching for another shady spot where a snail might be hiding. The sun beats down, casting dappled shadows through the trees, but the snails seem to have vanished. Pushing aside a tangle of long shrubbery, he pauses, his breath catching. There, just beyond a weathered three-panel fence, stands a striking white horse. Its coat gleams like polished ivory in the sunlight, and its dark, intelligent eyes lock onto Yoshi's. The horse nickers softly, its ears twitching forward as if greeting him. Yoshi's face lights up, a giggle bubbling from his lips. The horse tosses its head playfully, its mane flowing like silk, as if inviting him closer.
Without hesitation, Yoshi sprints toward the fence, sliding to a stop just inches away. "Hello, boy," he murmurs, his voice filled with wonder. The horse lowers its head, nuzzling Yoshi's outstretched hand, its breath warm and gentle. Yoshi grins, scratching the horse's velvety nose. Climbing through the fence, he plucks handfuls of fresh grass, holding them out eagerly. The horse lipped the offering, its soft muzzle tickling Yoshi's palm. For a moment, the world fades away, leaving only the boy and the horse, connected by a simple, unspoken bond of trust and joy.
"You, there!" Yoshi freezes at the sharp tone. "What do you think you are doing with my horse?" Cavendish strode forward with an air of effortless elegance, his long, golden locks cascading over his shoulders like a shimmering waterfall. His ruffled V-neck shirt, pristine and white, fluttered slightly in the breeze, accentuating his lean, graceful frame. Atop his head sat a tri-corner hat, tilted just so, adding a touch of roguish charm to his already striking appearance. A rapier hung at his side, its hilt gleaming, a silent promise of his skill and confidence. Every step he took was deliberate, his posture regal yet relaxed, as though the world itself bent to his whims. His piercing blue eyes locked onto his target. The sunlight seemed to dance around him, highlighting his ethereal beauty, as he moved with the poise of a man who knew he was destined for greatness. Cavendish was a vision of charisma and grace, a living legend in motion.
Yoshi's shoulders tighten as the horse nudges the loose grass from his palm. "Um…."
Cavendish glares down his nose at him, studying his attire. Noting the shackled wrists and rags, his brow creases. Patting the horse, "Well, Ferul appears to have taken a liking to you."
Yoshi strokes his velvety nose, "he is amazing, sir."
"Yoshi!" Annibelle's voice pierces the air, sharp with panic, as she spots him from the other side of the fence. Her eyes widen, and her jaw drops when the stunning figure of Cavendish comes into view. His golden locks catch the sunlight, his elegant attire and confident stance radiating an almost otherworldly charm. Annibelle's knees wobble, her breath hitching as she struggles to process the scene before her. The contrast between Yoshi's ragged appearance and Cavendish's dazzling presence is jarring. For a moment, she's frozen, caught between awe and alarm, her mind racing to make sense of the unexpected encounter.
"Excuse me, madam," he snaps her from her awestruck ogling.
Slapping herself on the cheeks, Annabelle winces at the sharp sting. She blinks rapidly, shaking her head as if to dispel the fog of distraction. With a deep breath, she forces herself to focus, her eyes narrowing with renewed determination. "Apologies, sir." She stumbles through the fence. "This boy is in my care. I will take responsibility if he has offended you." She places a protective arm around Yoshi, pulling him to her.
"It is quite all right," Cavendish's eye falls to her shackles, "no harm was done." Buckling the halter on Ferul, "You do not appear to be from around here."
Annabelle clears her throat, "No, sir," doing her best to hide her wrists. " We are just passing through."
Cavendish purses his lips, "If you like, I am on my way to the blacksmith for Ferul. He may be able to assist you with your," he pauses, searching for the right word, "adornments."
Annabelle's head snaps, "Really?" The chains clank when she lifts her wrist, "but we don't have any money."
Cavendish tugs on Farul, "I am sure we can work something out."
As they made their way through the busy, narrow stone streets of the castle town, the air buzzed with activity. Merchants called out from cramped stalls, their wares spilling onto the cobblestones—colorful fabrics, gleaming trinkets, and baskets of fresh produce. The scent of roasting meat and warm bread mingled with the tang of iron from nearby forges.
Townsfolk bustled past, their voices blending into a lively hum, while children darted between legs, laughing as they played. The towering stone buildings loomed on either side, their windows adorned with flower boxes and fluttering curtains. The rhythmic clang of a hammer on metal grew louder as they neared the blacksmith's shop, its glowing forge visible through an open doorway.
Annabelle asked, "Sir," Cavendish glanced at her as she attempted to hide behind Farul's large size. "Is it okay for you to be seen with us?"
Cavendish smirks, his piercing blue eyes gleaming with confidence as he flicks his long, golden locks over his shoulder. His pristine white coat, draped elegantly over his frame, ripples majestically in the breeze, catching the sunlight like a banner of triumph. Every movement exudes grace and arrogance, as though the world itself exists to admire him, "Madam, I am too beautiful to be challenged."
Annabelle tilts her head in uncertainty. As they continue walking, swooning, people faint from their passing, and she begins to understand. "It must be lonely for you," she mutters.
"What was that?"
"Oh, nothing," she grins, "Thank you so much for helping us." Yoshi giggles as Farul shakes his flowing tail.
With a final strike of the hammer, their shackles clanged, falling in a pile on the floor. Annabelle rubs her wrist, "Thank you so much!"
The cranky blacksmith groans, taking payment from Cavendish, "Thank you, good man. There is a little extra for your silence." When he takes Farul's lead, Yoshi's stomach makes an audible growl, "Come, we can get something to eat on my ship."
"You have a ship?" Yoshi scurries to walk beside him.
"Yes, we suffered storm damage and docked here for repairs."
They sit in the lavish dining room of the vessel, the space adorned with polished wood, gleaming brass, and soft candlelight. The open window lets in the salty breeze, carrying the rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the hull. Sunlight streams in, casting a golden glow over the finely set table, where plates of steaming food and goblets of wine await. Outside, the endless expanse of the ocean stretches to the horizon, its deep blue meeting the sky in a seamless blend. The gentle sway of the ship adds to the serene atmosphere, a moment of calm amidst their journey.
While Yoshi scarfs down his plate of food, Cavendish sips his wine. When he noticed Annabelle moving the potatoes around with her fork. "Is it not to your liking?"
"It's not that," she shoves a potato in her mouth. Swallowing, "it's just that…."
"Yes," Cavendish raises a judgmental eyebrow.
Taking a deep breath, she belts out, "I have one more favor to ask of you."
Cavendish, disapprovingly, swirls the glass, "What is it?"
"Would you have a transponder snail I could use?" Waving her palms, "I just need to make one call."
"Oh," Cavendish sips, "yes." His chair scrapes across the floor as he stands, "come with me. That is easily accomplished." Opening the door to the Captain's Cabin, a vision of opulence, its walls lined with rich, dark wood and shelves filled with leather-bound books and exotic trinkets. A plush rug covers the floor, its intricate patterns softened by the glow of a crystal chandelier overhead.
She follows him to the grand mahogany desk, its surface polished to a mirror shine, adorned with a brass globe, scattered maps, and a gleaming inkwell. The air smells of aged paper, polished wood, and a hint of sea salt, a testament to the captain's refined taste and the cabin's timeless elegance. Gesturing to the snail, she picks up the receiver using the dial to call and sends a code of beeps.
She sighs in relief after hanging up. She looks at Cavendish, reading on the ornate couch. "I don't know how we can ever repay you." Appearing overly invested in his book, he thoughtlessly nibbles on a rose peddle and doesn't reply. Bracing her arms, she scans the random material sprawled across the desk. Flipping a page, she jolts as a hand grips her wrist.
Cavendish scowls, "What are you doing?"
"Are you studying this?" His posture becomes tense, "I know this language." His eyes widen. "I can help you." She picks up a page with some hand-scratched notes, "This interpretation is close but not entirely correct. It speaks of a generational blood contract or pact with a spirit. It looks like…."
"You can read this?" his grip loosens.
She nods, "Yes, please allow me to help you. It is the least I can do."
Cavendish nods, "that message you just sent."
She smiles, "It was a message to my colleagues."
"Shame," Cavendish rests on the desk, crossing his arm, "I was thinking you would make a nice addition to the crew."
Ah chew! Heat runs through her body as a flush creeps across her cheeks, "Oh, thank you so much," she starts to shuffle papers. Ah chew! "But, uh, we really have to get home," her voice quivers.
Later that evening, one of the crew escorted them to their assigned quarters. "Now," he held the door, "this is very important. The windows and door must remain locked at night. You must not venture out."
"But why?" Yoshi asks with the most innocent intent.
The crew member smiles, "If you want to remain on this ship, you must not ask so many questions."
Before Yoshi can ask another, Annabelle interrupts, "We understand, and we can stay in our cabin." Taking the bundle from him, "Thank you for the change of clothes. The bath is down the hall?"
"Yes," the crew member smiles. Holding a finger, "Remember, no matter what, do not unlock your window or door at night."