"You're incredibly knowledgeable," Rebo marveled, genuinely impressed. It wasn't just flattery; even Eckert seemed less knowledgeable in comparison.
"Do you have a passion for the sea?" the old man asked.
"When I was in Southport, I envied the sailors more than anything. Mr. Hyde, how did you become a sailor and travel the world?" Rebo inquired.
"My hometown is Southport as well. When I was a boy, I also envied those sailors. At that time, Southport was just a small coastal town, barely established. The docks hadn't even been built yet, so we had to use small boats to ferry people and goods to the larger ships anchored offshore. We relied on those little boats for everything back then. Are they still around?" Mr. Hyde asked.
"Yes, but they're much less common now."
"Is that so? In my time, we depended on those boats for everything. When I was your age, I partnered with two friends to buy a small boat. We used it daily to transport goods, saving every penny we earned. Eventually, we traded the small boat for a larger one and learned a lot about the sea from the sailors who came and went. Once we saved enough money, we sold our boat and found work on a ship. Life as a sailor was hard and didn't pay well, but every time we docked in a new city, the three of us pooled our savings to trade goods. We knew which cities had valuable commodities from talking to the sailors, and we made quite a fortune. The ship I worked on was the very one you see before you—the Light Sail Horn—a fast vessel that sailed the coastal routes from Irei to Southport. Back then, ships like this were the most common."
"They still are," Rebo interjected.
"But the last voyage of the Light Sail Horn ended in disaster. At that time, Irei was at war with the Tol people, and all ships docked in Irei were requisitioned for war. We couldn't leave any port without a military escort. Soon after, our ship was assigned to transport food and supplies—a highly dangerous mission. The narrow sea routes were patrolled by the Tol fleet, and we narrowly escaped them several times thanks to our ship's speed. But our luck eventually ran out. The Light Sail Horn, loaded with grain, was caught by a large Tol fleet. The captain of the soldiers stationed on our ship was a stubborn man who refused to let us jettison the grain, even as the Tol ships closed in. My friend killed the captain, and a fight broke out on board. We eventually subdued the soldiers, but half of us were lost, including my friend. After dumping the grain, we managed to escape, but we couldn't return to Irei, where we'd be arrested, nor could we dock in Tol ports. To survive, we had to sail east along the Tol coastline."
"Why didn't you sail back to Florans? Wouldn't that have been safer?" Rebo asked.
"Irei had many fast ships. We couldn't outrun them, but the Tol ships were slower, so east was our only option. We hunted along the way for supplies and eventually reached the city of Myr in Linti. We thought we were safe, but the hot climate caused an incurable disease to break out on the ship. Without a priest on board, the crew died one by one. I watched as my other friend and the captain succumbed to the disease. The remaining crew and I abandoned the Light Sail Horn and made our way through dense jungles and over rugged mountains until we reached Chinna. Compared to the other countries in the Far East, Chinna was the most advanced civilization, though their culture was one we couldn't comprehend. Our arrival was a novelty to them, and their emperor summoned us. You can't imagine it, but the emperor didn't live in a palace—he lived in an entire city that belonged to him. That city was larger than most of the cities we know. The emperor was fascinated by our stories and rewarded us generously."
"Those gifts must have been incredibly valuable," Rebo said, full of envy.
"Indeed. Even the most ordinary porcelain and silk from Chinna fetches high prices in Florans. The emperor's gifts were beyond compare—porcelain that glittered like gemstones and silk that shone like gold. When we left Chinna, each of us carried as much porcelain and silk as we could. If we made it back to Florans, it would have been a fortune. We crossed deserts, bypassed the war-torn Polinia, scaled the Sohr Mountains, and passed through Diriz to reach Florans. Many of my companions died along the way, and only two of us made it home."
"That's incredible! You must have made a fortune," Rebo exclaimed, thrilled.
"No, the long journey taught us that life is far more valuable than wealth. I was lucky just to return home alive. The emperor's gifts were lost along the way," Mr. Hyde said.
"What a shame. But your experiences are the most precious treasure of all. I wish I could have an adventure like yours someday. Did you ever try to retrace your route and visit the generous emperor of Chinna again?" Rebo asked, his curiosity piqued.
"It was impossible. After the Tol won the war, they cut off all sea and land routes. We were desperate back then. Now, no sailor would be foolish enough to attempt that deadly route again," the old man explained.
"Who was the other survivor who made it back to Florans with you?" Rebo asked.
"Meir Dolphin. He was the ship's accountant," the old man replied, the name clearly still etched in his memory after all those years.
"Meir Dolphin!" Rebo exclaimed. "The president of the Southport Merchants' Guild! He's the wealthiest and most influential man in Southport." Rebo couldn't believe that this man, practically the ruler of Southport, had once been Hyde's companion in life-or-death situations.
"He's also the steward and financial advisor of Sersburg and a close friend of the Archbishop," the old man added.
"Did you ever meet Sir Dolphin again?" Rebo asked. In Southport, everyone knew that Meir Dolphin had been knighted by the king for his outstanding contributions to the city's prosperity—a rare honor for a commoner.
"We've both had our own affairs to manage and haven't had time to meet. But I've never forgotten my old friend, and I'm sure he hasn't forgotten me. Occasionally, when there's something he can't handle personally, he asks for my help. Over the years, we've worked together quite well."
While Rebo didn't fully understand everything Mr. Hyde said, he grasped one thing clearly—Mr. Hyde was far from an ordinary thief. Neither Paem, Eckert, nor Kayler were ordinary thieves, and Mr. Hyde certainly wasn't either.
The plan they were concocting had to involve something far more significant than just a successful con. Rebo had the unsettling feeling that he was being drawn into a terrifying conspiracy, one that was far more complex than he could comprehend.
His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, and he barely paid attention to the rest of the conversation.
As the sun set, the Westbay language lesson finally came to an end. The time after dinner was reserved for Kayler, who insisted on practicing sensory awareness in the dark—a perfect exercise before bed. Rebo forced himself to shake off his uncertainty, knowing that Kayler's training wasn't something he could take lightly.
Slipping on his soft-soled shoes, Rebo moved silently like a cat in the darkness, carefully navigating the obstacles in the room and avoiding the sharp blades embedded in the floor that could easily pierce his feet. Though Rebo still couldn't see as clearly in the dark as Kayler, he had learned to detect the smallest objects, especially those dangerous, glinting pieces of metal.
Slowly inching forward, Rebo used his toes to feel for anything in his path, particularly the blades, as he moved from the doorway to the window.
"Not bad," came the raspy voice from behind him. Rebo was no longer surprised by Kayler's sudden appearances; he was fully aware of the vast gap in skill between them.
"You're learning well. If you wanted to escape now, no one in this house but me would notice," Kayler said coldly.
"No, I never thought about running away," Rebo quickly explained, never forgetting the three quills that had pierced the bedpost.
"Then why did you want to learn the skills of an assassin?" Kayler asked, his voice icy.
"I... I..." Rebo stammered, realizing that it was futile to lie to such a skilled assassin. He decided to be honest.
"The necklace you took from my Aunt Betty—it's the only thing I have left from my mother. I wanted to get it back," Rebo admitted cautiously.
"All this, just for that worthless necklace?" Kayler stared at Rebo for a long moment, searching for any sign of deception. But it was clear that Rebo was telling the truth.
"If it's just for that necklace, you'll find it in the bottom drawer. Go ahead and take it," Kayler said.