I lean back in my chair and pat my stomach, feeling whole for the first time in weeks. Even in Blackreach, I didn't get to eat this much. I spent most of the time there training while the others relaxed, but this?
The chair creaks audibly beneath me as I tilt further back, a satisfied smile playing on my lips. The cacophony of raucous laughter and clinking glasses surrounds me. Many of the people in this bar are friends or temporary acquaintances of each other. There are no laws within the waters of Lawless Lake, apparently, only absolute truths.
And to the Godless and governmentless thieves, pirates, and bandits here, none want to fight inside their bars. It would only ruin them. This island, Kingstown, is one of the very few places not overrun by the Estates.
I've been to all the others at some point in time. The Estates only partially touched Bent, the latter never conforming to their demands. Starkbluffs seemed unfazed by the overbearing families, but that is only because they had abandoned it to fall. Blackreach had only recently come under new management, and they were still vehemently fighting for that freedom, both against the out and the in. I've halfway been to Gravecross, walking up the walls, but from what I've heard, it is influenced yet not completely under control. Still, it all rests on an old man not far from death. A common thing I've come to find among humanity.
But this place? These waters have long since been abandoned by those haughty figures. I mean...
Who in their right mind, other than the Prime, would fight Maddox Adkins with all these lawless men and women to follow him? Counting the Virtued monster I am sitting upon currently, it makes sense. Leave the waters alone as a barrier against other races and accept the losses the raiding parties would bestow on cities on the shore.
As I consider the Prime, however, a thought does rise to the surface. Who will be the next Prime? V—Desolation has risen to Godhood. Surely... he can't still want to have that position, can he? I mean... is he still human?
Autumn slams down another shot, laughing at Abraham's reddening face due to his inability to handle alcohol. Her shout breaks me from my thoughts.
"Can't keep ur liquor, pasty?"
Abraham scoffs and stands drunkenly as he wags his head back and forth. Sighing, I place my hand on his shoulder.
"Relax. She's drunk, too. Let her pay, and then we can leave."
The alabaster-haired man groans before nodding. Thankfully, he can keep his mind mostly cleared of the taint of alcohol, even with how much he drank. As for me... Blodwyn does not like whisky, rum, or wine. All of it is quickly expelled. I think the last time I'll ever hold the memory of getting drunk was the celebration of Marshall's death.
The idea makes me sink deep into my chair, feeling the scenery as Autumn starts chatting up the barkeep to pay. She's pretty smooth with her words, wrapping the man around her finger without a promise of anything. In just a moment, she lowers the cost by half. Autumn was never this... eloquent before in Bent or the forests. Here? She's in her element.
Breathing deeply while she speaks, I feel the air and how thick it is, with the sweet scent of rum and the acrid undertone of cigar smoke. Arguments flare up intermittently in my ears, fists meeting faces in brief, drunken skirmishes, but it's all part of the lively dance of this bar. None of the bouts are severe or involve Ether, even between Sigiled.
That absolute truth Autumn mentioned in a fit of drunken rambling holds true. Even the worst people don't want to ruin their favorite bars.
For the first time in weeks, I savor the sensation of complete satiation. No... it's been almost... wait... has it been a whole year yet?
I think it's almost been an entire year of Blodwyn being with me, starving me slowly. Only now, now that it is an Arca, can it handle and restrain its hunger. Before, it just ate, ate, and ate, devouring every scrap of nutrition in my veins if it felt like it. Blodwyn now realizes he doesn't need to do that. He can get most of his fuel from the Ether in the air while making the most of what I share.
The warmth in my stomach is so pleasant it brings a contented sigh to my lips. But the joy doesn't hold for all that long as flashes of Bonfire, Frozen, and Clumsy run through my mind with the sights of the bar.
My eyes trace the bar tables—a motley crew of thieves and pirates, each with their own tale etched into the lines of their weathered faces. The dim light casts a flickering glow on the worn wooden tables as a whole group plays a game of cards. Guns are rested beside each man's hand, but no one reaches for them. It's more of a silent promise, keeping others from cheating.
Not everyone enjoys catching and watching duplicity as Bonfire does. Still... in another life, I could see him and his friends being amongst these people. I wonder why they were not. They've been here before. Perhaps... perhaps this is where they lost Speedy, or they simply are not as heartless as these people are. I'll prefer to think the latter.
As I bask in the ambiance with Autumn standing and wrapping an arm around Abraham, I can't help but appreciate the irony—finding solace among those whose lives are entangled with the turbulent seas and the unpredictable currents of fortune.
"Wyatt. Come on! Father is back from his raid!"
Autumn shouts at me as she stumbles toward the door, forcing Abraham to help carry her. Wiping my hand against the bridge of my nose, I follow. At least I'm not the only one watching these two. A shadowy hand, visible only to me, grips my shoulder with a whisper.
"I got a few more minutes of Mask. It hurts quite a bit to use any Ether at all, so I'm going to go find us a place to stay."
I nod to him, but as I step after the other two, I wonder how he's going to do that without money. Yet the worry is quickly dashed as Virgil flicks five coins at me with his thumb all at once. I snatch them from the air as he smirks at me.
"Oh, and I'm going to go get us some new clothes with those guys' coins. I really need a new fucking mask."
Chuckling, I watch for only a moment as Virgil slides into an alleyway, vanishing from my sight. Even with his Ether saturation problem, he should be mostly fine now that he's awake. When I was crippled by it, when I got to the point that I could walk and use a bit of Ether, I was pretty much in the clear. I surmise it's the same for him. Still, it can't be easy to hide every inch of his skin from the sun with torn clothing. I'm sure he'll manage, though.
So, while striding behind Autumn, we quickly step through the streets of Kingstown as it, in a moment, becomes a bustling center. People rush out of buildings with bags of coins and goods, heading for the only dock on the island. Autumn grumbles beside us while stumbling her way along with them, requiring both Abraham and I's help to keep her standing.
"Father always shomehow dragsh back a haul of treasshure. Thesh darn gremlins, they wanna shimmy in for a piece of the action, you know? I'm jusht wondering... ish Ryder taggin' along with 'em?"
Fuck. Did the four shots of whisky hit her right now? She can hardly talk. I pat her on the back while glancing at the setting sun. At least it's almost night.
"Maybe we ought to get you someplace else. You're too drunk to be out here, Autumn."
The ocean-eyed woman twists her head like a possessed creature and stares into my soul. She chuckles before waving her head back and forth vehemently.
"Of coursh not! I gots a bone to pick with Father!"
I squint at her, seeing the seriousness through her drunkenness. This... this is going to go wonderfully. But do we stop her? I don't know. I'm not close enough with her to really make that call. I share a glance with Abraham as the man forces his mind through the haze of alcohol in his body with his Ether. His eyes are fully opened in questioning, but I only shrug.
What else are we going to do? We don't know anything about this place. Bonfire had been here before, which... sounds about right, but Abraham and I haven't. It's probably for the best if we stay beside Autumn, even if she is drunk off her ass. How else will we not get pickpocketed or taken advantage of? We're strong, sure, but there are thousands here.
I walk in the shadow of the bustling crowd with Autumn and Abraham, inching closer to the ruler of Kingstown, Maddox Adkins, as he anchors his ship. The air is filled with murmurs, tales of a mysterious journey that had left their once-mighty ship, the Rising Tide, battered and broken. Whispers spread like wildfire, speculating on the whereabouts of Maddox during the ordeal.
After several minutes of pushing through the crowd, we reach the front, and the sight leaves me gaping.
The dock is a chaotic sea of broken planks as Maddox's ship creaks and groans, tethered to the wooden stands by the sheer will of its remaining structure. The ship is the largest structure I've ever seen, with seven masts and more men than a whole Hunter enclave.
It extends above and over the water higher than the walls of Bent while also being incredibly long. The thing has to be at least five hundred feet and is lined with cannons all over. My eyes trace each figure over the side of the boat, finding not a single man below the 4th Sigil among the crew. At least a dozen are of the sixth.
Seeing such a massive ship in complete disarray is...
What the hell happened to it? And it's not the only one. There are over a dozen other ships behind it, coming to anchor as well. This is all his crew as only the strongest can fit aboard his flagship.
I squint as planks fall, allowing the crew to walk to the dock, and the first one off is their leader—the Sea's Shadow. As Maddox disembarks, the contrast between his refined appearance and the rugged setting alongside everything I've ever heard of him is striking. His black suit is a stark departure from the typical bandit or pirate attire, and his well-groomed appearance only adds to the enigma.
The most curious part, however, is that in his hand, he cradles a pepperbox pistol, a lethal accessory treated with genuine care.
The aura around him commands respect, a potent blend of scars and adornments telling tales of a seasoned adventurer. He's unlike the other Pillars I've met. He holds zero responsibility. He was only given the post as no one, save the Prime, could handle him in his sea, and Desolation wasn't around that often. And from what I've garned, I think water might be Vincent's only weakness, seeing as the Wastes don't touch any body of water. Or a large body of water, I mean. A hot enough flame can evaporate a bucket but not a sea.
The ship's broken masts and worn hull seem incongruent with the stature of the man steering it. The crowd nearby buzzes with speculation as Maddox's shining boots slam into the dock, marking him as home. He turns and bows to the crowd and me, speaking softly but powerfully so that we all can hear.
"I am returned from the 'expedition' fruitful. I have a Lumen for sale, should anyone have enough coin or something appropriately expensive, and there are many other goods."
Maddox finishes his bow as an eager shout from a merchant beside me rings out, echoing into the salty sea air. Everyone else falls into a shocked quiet from his outburst.
"What Lumen, sir? The Grimes have been looking for one to base off of!"
The Sea's Shadow twists calmly, answering the man with a smile. Even as he speaks, I can tell this isn't entirely normal for those around me. He's kinder than usual. Something is off.
"It is called the Falling Rain. Berholt, the Meteor Crash, held it a week ago. It is a Colt that, when fired, shoots out a volley of bullets so compact that it seems to be a thing of rain. Each bullet possesses the power of a cannon. It is what did the majority of the damage to my dear Tide."
I shuffle along the crowd and hold onto Autumn as I can feel her physically vibrating in my hands. Something is wrong with her. I clamp down with force as I whisper into her ear.
"I know this is your father, but calm yourself. You said so yourself that he doesn't care for family ties, right? Don't piss him off. This is obviously something big."
Autumn glares at me from the corner of her eye but doesn't reply verbally. I take it as acceptance as Maddox calls the attention of the world again. The man steps along the dock, brandishing the Colt before waving into the crowd.
"For now, however, until it is sold, it shall stay with my successor who discovered where it was held and who came up with the strategy to fell Berholt. Ryder, come out here."
I eye the crowd as a young man, hardly any older than Autumn, steps out. He has a long grey duster to match his equally grey hair. The color of his hair seems more dyed than it is natural or Sigiled-caused. The color of his frame, however... It is a cruel magenta—a 7th Sigiled. Autumn was right way back then.
The young man, Ryder, nods to his father, but before he even gets close to the gun and his father, Autumn twists and tears my grip from her shoulder. The woman darts out from the mass of people, running straight for her father.
"How dare you! That should be Rhuger's! He did the research! He found it! And you killed him before he could get it!"
Autumn screams at her half-brother, and Ryder pauses to meet her. I can see the man shake his head at her with broadened eyes, attempting to hide the gesture from their father. But Maddox acts instantly to the threat, even if it is family. He reaches for the sheathed saber at his hip, the blade curved and shimmering with a sharp violet—a Virtued Lumen.
The blade comes out of the sheathe, and currents of air whip around, forming gales that shift into water. The threads of water expand into torrents that wrap around Autumn, capturing her entirely before she can even make it halfway to Ryder. I don't move, and neither does Abraham. We're friends, but...
I don't know her all that well. And we only just reconnected.
Gross disappointment breaks through the air with a tsk tsk as Maddox walks to his daughter. However, he doesn't release her even as he gives the utterly still Ryder the Falling Rain. The son takes it but doesn't close his hand around the weapon as he looks at his sister.
"I thought you said you never wanted to come back, Autumn? What happened to all that grandiosity? You couldn't bear ruling with a twin, but you sure can't live without."
My eyes shift back and forth between the siblings as I notice vast similarities between them—more so than if they shared only one parent. Ryder and Autumn are twins? Then... why does she hate him so?
"You... You and Ryder are egotistical maniacs! All you do is take, take, and take, uncaring for those around you as they suffer. You make your own children fight to the death for you. You make them slave away to prove themselves to you. You are... you are..."
I watch, almost frozen, as Maddox steps to his daughter, placing the shimmering blade of blue veins against her neck. He speaks so softly that I can only hear him as I amplify my hearing with Listen.
"I'm... what, dear?"
Tears fall down Autumn's face as she rails against her watery binds to no avail. She screams into her father's face, spitting at him after.
"A Monster! You have no right to be human! All you care for is money and treasure like some demon of avarice!"
I breathe in deeply, unsure if I want to step in as Maddox rears back, placing his large saber on his shoulder. If I intervene, things could go bad really quick. I mean... I can't even fight Ryder alone, right? With Abraham and Virgil, we could take the man most likely, but that still leaves fucking Maddox Adkins.
A quote from Johnny resounds in my mind about the man, cementing my decision, no matter how hard it is to do so.
"If there is water, bet on Maddox. Only a terror such as Vincent can ignore such vast environmental advantages."
Maddox Adkins steps back from his daughter with a chuckle as the whole street huddles silently, waiting with bated breath for his retaliation. But it doesn't come as the man wipes the spit from his face.
"So what? Am I not allowed to want things? Am I not allowed to desire? Am I not allowed to dream? Are those not human things? Why do I need to fight for the collective? What has the collective ever done for me? You are naive, Autumn. If humanity falls, it will have no effect on me. I trade with demons and kill humans for those trades. At the same time, I kill demons and deal with humans for those trades. The same occurs with every race, even the quiet Grayskins every now and then. They don't care as long as there is profit, whether it is weapons, women, or wealth."
He trades with demons? I guess I shouldn't be surprised. This is Lawless Lake, after all. But what does he bargain with them? It's probably those three he just mentioned—weapons, women, and wealth.
The suited man walks away from his daughter while shaking his head. He seems supremely disappointed by her thoughts. I don't know how to refute him, as he's not entirely wrong. Lawless Lake would likely stand as long as he lives if all the other Territories fall. Hell, it might last beyond that. This place is haven for under the table deals between races, apparently. I doubt any of them would like to see this place vanish.
"This is your final warning, Autumn. Shed your naivety, or you will die when the Gods fall. The time to stand up is now. The moment Seddnah dies of Desolation, I will take another step. If you fall behind, that is on you."
I can see Autumn shed only more tears as her father walks away, calling his son to follow. Ryder doesn't move for a moment, however, giving Autumn time to respond.
"What use does wealth have in attaining power, Father? Can it make your Ether smoother? Your Sigil stronger?"
I nod at her words as it makes sense to me. Money can only buy weapons, right? All the power from a Sigil comes from accomplishments. Maddox doesn't seem to think so, though.
"Yes. Yes, it can. There is a Sigil that gains power based on wealth. And soon, I shall have it. The things those from beyond time have are... so very unique."
Autumn's eyes widen as Abraham and I share a worried glance. Silas.
How does Maddox know? Wait... before I jump to any conclusions, while Peddler is rare, Silas does have multiple, meaning there could be more in circulation. Maddox could have a captured Peddler somewhere, just as the prisons in Blackreach did for my Philosopher. Or... he has eyes on one.
But Autumn doesn't know Silas' Sigil like we do. She sighs and shakes her head, admitting defeat. But she only gives up on one notion.
"Very well. If all this raiding and looting indeed does bolster your power and not just your greed, then perhaps it has a place. But... I cannot let you have Rhuger's life's work. He spent years researching that weapon, investigating clues to find it. And when he found the Vault with it, you called him back for the duel. It took you a year to find the Vault, even with his notes. So, I challenge you, Ryder, for a final duel between children."
Ryder steps back in shock before fast recovering, but his father is even quicker on the uptake. He places a hand on Ryder's shoulder, keeping the son still.
"That sounds wonderful, Autumn. I'll finally get to see which twin truly is stronger. Perhaps if you hadn't left on your own, I'd already know."