Finn, momentarily taken aback, turned to Marcellus with a raised eyebrow. "Ahoy there, Blackeye! What brings ye to this fine gathering? here for some birds?"
Ignoring Finn's attempt to steer the conversation, Marcellus responded sternly, "Finn, what are you doing here ?"
Finn chuckled and winked at Marcellus. "Ah, me lad, they love me stories! Besides, a pirate's charm is as irresistible as a siren's song."
Marcellus couldn't help but shake his head in exasperation. "Well, I'm sure they appreciate the break nonetheless. I meant here on this Island. All the crew of the viper is gone, Why are you still here in Mythralis?"
Finn, for a moment, regarded Marcellus with a look that seemed to question the necessity of the inquiry. However, he relented with a reluctant sigh, resisting the urge to be smug or rude.
Marcellus had already shown his physical prowess, and Finn wasn't keen on testing the waters again. It wasn't cowardice, just a healthy respect for preserving his good looks.
"Well," Finn began, choosing his words carefully, "you see, Blackeye, the Viper is a privateer crew. That means they can't quite provide for the needs of around seventy-plus people year-round.
Only the main members of the Viper are allowed to stay on the ship continuously, especially when there's no prize to capture. That's when only twelve or so folks remain aboard. The rest? Well, they're regular folks recruited from various places."
Finn gestured to the diverse crowd milling about the streets of Mythralis. "This is why Mythralis is often called a pirate island. People from all walks of life end up here, seeking adventure or just a fresh start."
He pointed at a man passing by and then another. "You see that man and that man? They were on the Viper too, at one point or another. Mythralis is a place where stories intertwine, and everyone's got a tale to tell."
Finn's expression softened as he continued, "And as for me, well, I was born right here on Mythralis…"
Finn's voice seemed to fade into the background as Marcellus' brain went into overload. He couldn't help but berate himself internally.
Yes, this is a reasonable and natural answer, he thought.
It makes sense.
Why did I, all this time, think Finn was the only pirate from the Viper left here?
Surely I must have seen others.
Even the people he just pointed out... I don't remember.
Was I in the right state of mind during my time on the Viper?
Doubts and questions swirled within Marcellus, casting shadows on his memories of his past life with the Viper crew.
It was a disorienting moment of self-reflection, as if pieces of his history were slipping through his fingers like sand, It felt like when he was in a dream-like ritual.
Yes, it feels exactly like the dream,
Marcellus murmured to himself, a sense of unease gnawing at him.
I don't remember much before I achieved Pulse Condensation.
Damn, is there something wrong with me?
Is this why Livius said Captain Crowe reported I was acting suspiciously?
What was I doing before Pulse Condensation that I did not do afterwards?
A few moments later, it hit him like a cannon fired off in his head – the diary.
Yes, it's the diary... I was reading before... but not afterwards. I did not get a chance to.
Marcellus's brows furrowed as he winced in discomfort, the pain in his glabella intensifying.
He felt as though a thousand tiny needles were pricking at his forehead, each jab more persistent than the last. His face contorted in a grimace as he tried to endure the throbbing sensation, a deep crease forming on his forehead, marking the exact spot where the pain radiated from.
It was an unsettling and unsettlingly familiar feeling, one that hinted at a connection between him and the diary that was far more profound and mysterious than he could have ever imagined.
"...Blackeye? Blackeye? Are you okay?" Finn's voice seemed to rouse Marcellus from his thoughts.
"Yes, I am fine," Marcellus replied.
Finn light-heartedly said, "Well, I am headed to the Siren. Wanna come? there'll be a discount from Mr Doan"
Marcellus hesitated for a moment before replying, "No I don't think I will, how do you always have coin to spend?"
Finn simply giggled and left the fire gathering.
Marcellus, feeling a mixture of confusion and curiosity, scoffed and made his way to the Governor's house.
Upon reaching his room, he found the hearth already lit.
He fed it some wood and picked up a lanthorn, illuminating the room further, with a sense of comfort he took off his mantle and settled into the hard bed, crafted from wood and layered with leather for bedding.
Without much ceremony, he ate a soup brought by the maids, filling his stomach. Then, he began reading the book he had borrowed the night before, diligently improving his High Valar.
Hours passed, and the words on the pages blurred together. Exhaustion finally caught up with him, and he fell into a deep slumber.
…
The next day, he quickly rose from his slumber as the first rays of dawn peeked through the window.
Marcellus stretched his limbs and got ready gathering all his belongings for the day ahead. After a simple breakfast grub, he made his way to the yard where he was to meet Edwin and Ralf for their expedition to find the Hollow Serpent.
As he walked through the stone halls of the Governor's house, he couldn't help but reflect on the events of the previous day. The conversation with Finn had left him with a sense of unease, a nagging feeling that he was missing something important about his memory.
But he couldn't dwell on it now; he had a task at hand.
When he reached the yard, he found Edwin and Ralf already waiting for him.
Ralf's attire was strikingly different from his usual attire. He was adorned with crafted leather armour and his plump and jovial countenance only added to the overall charm of his appearance. His round, friendly face was framed by a bushy moustache, which gave him a distinctive and amiable look.
Ralf's leather armour, despite its traditional purpose, added a touch of humour to his overall look, primarily due to his portly figure. The leather armour appeared to be poorly crafted, it amusingly struggled to contain its ample girth, Ralf sported brown leather sandals with straps, featuring an open-toed and simple design, creating an anachronistic aspect in his attire.