Captain MacColl POV
"Lady Kanezumi, please exercise caution. We do not yet know who they are, nor the breadth of their abilities. Hands steady. Calm."
I understood and apologized for my previous brusqueness. I was… curious. The words left her lips like drizzle across parched soil, falling slow, dripping into ears desperate for sense.
I cast my gaze to her companion, a grey-white beastkin, braids neat and deliberate, each strand an emblem of discipline. Unlike her. My eyes shifted back to Lady Kanezumi: long, black hair stretching like the void between stars. A faint movement of her fingers swept a rogue strand aside, her expression feigned surprise, playful curiosity igniting eyes that blazed as if the sun had returned after a storm.
"What might be the matter? Did I say anything wrong?" she asked, voice soft, teasing, a smile sweet enough to taste on my tongue.
"It's nothing," I replied, voice like sand dragged across gravel—dry, harsh, a warning.
The journey would take hours. "Retire to your quarters when dinner concludes," I added, waving lazily as I strode forward. Boots echoed over the deck, a muted drumbeat to the wind's song.
"Boss, why are we even taking on such a mission?" whispered a young lad behind me, voice like wind threading through a narrow crack.
"You're still wet behind the ears," I said without turning. "Walls carry secrets. Winds bear hushed whispers. Learn to swim—or be drowned by the forces steering these seas." Words rolled off me, a furnace bellow exhaling into cold, arcane-tinged air.
The engine room loomed ahead. I could feel it before I saw it: the heartbeat of the ship, the pulse of power embedded in its bones. The young sailor trailed behind, eyes flicking nervously. I spoke again, slower now, letting thoughts tumble like molten iron.
"For the Therian to send someone from Kanezumi…" I paused, sensing the stretching hands of silence. My crewmate's gaze held a faint spark of confusion, caught in the dull lantern glow. "…given the nature of the trade talks, another clan should have led this. Yet they are absent."
"Get back to work, boyo. The pay is good, and that's reason enough," I muttered, shaking off the distraction.
Inside the engine room, the world shifted. Arcane lights flickered like divine miracles during a hymn, veins of green glows licked the walls, tracing runes that coiled like ancient vines. The air was thick with energy, metallic with runes and oil, yet surprisingly breathable. I closed the heavy door, drawing a breath as deep as the altitudes at which we sailed.
"Milne, how's it going?" My voice carried over the hum of engines and the flickering of arcane energy, part of the symphony of life here.
"Coll! Fancy seeing the captain down here!" boomed a voice like a marching herd of elephants. A man about my height approached, steps resounding like a drumline.
"Had your fill of princesses and arcane anomalies?" he asked. His laughter rang like cannon fire, booming, reverberating through the glowing room. He patted my back, shaking the faintly pulsing runes.
"What do you plan to do with that one?" His jest disappeared, drowned beneath the weight of duty, his eyes serious.
"She was detected at a mana anomaly—brief, fleeting, but still… alive," I replied, measured, low. "I will hand her over to the authorities. Could fetch us something in return."
He chuckled, arm still on my shoulder. "Just hope you don't end up fetching water from the river with an empty basket," he said, laughter shaking the room like thunder over waves.
I did not answer immediately, letting the weight of the task settle like ice over a turbulent river. My eyes swept the glowing runes, the humming machinery, the pulse of life thrumming beneath my boots. Somewhere within it, I knew, fate waited—patient, silent, hungry.
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Miss Kanezumi POV
After a dinner of beef so tender it melted like ice on a sunny afternoon, pasta rich with cheese, and a glass of red wine sweet as the blood of defeated foes, I felt momentarily sated. Mokuinu had lamb, apple juice, and hands forever in my business; she refused most other things with a dignified stubbornness.
Considering the captain's words and my mood, I entered my room. The door closed with a soft, apologetic whisper. Mokuinu stood behind me as I collapsed onto the bed—a bed so large it could swallow me whole, yet offered comfort, breathable air, and tolerable mask zones.
I stretched my hands toward the ceiling, feeling the weight of the day lift, like a sailor drowning in pleasure after a stormy voyage. "Mokuinu, what do you think of that girl the captain took abroad during the search for the anomaly?" I asked, as gentle hands creased my neck, removing my shoes.
"Hm… curious, if anything she said," Mokuinu murmured, voice like running water.
"That's it?" I lifted my head, eyes catching the last sliver of the imagined blood moon.
"You should bathe before sleep," she said, ignoring my gaze as if the moon itself were oblivious to my eyes.
"This ship… it's fascinating," she continued, brown eyes meeting mine with a smile that could rival any victory flag. "You're right—a flying ship is a marvel."
The horrors of the sky had frightened many as much as the moon itself. That the dwarves had found a way to traverse it was intriguing. I exhaled lightly as Mokuinu helped undress me, peeling away my layers with care, each movement deliberate like unwrapping a ripe fruit.
"Well, if negotiations go well, perhaps we claim a piece of heaven… though the church might dispute it," I chuckled, letting Mokuinu lead me to the bathroom.
A marble pool waited, lights flickering like fireflies over its surface. "I can bathe myself," I said, cheeks flushed with wine and heat, "care for your own body."
Submerging myself into water warm as early morning sunlight, I shifted gently to allow Mokuinu her space. I let out a long sigh, feeling tension I hadn't realized lingered slip from me, dissolving into the gentle lapping of water against marble.