Darkness enveloped Jaz, an oppressive void that smothered her senses. Her last memory flashed before her—Grak's blood-forged arm closing in, her consciousness slipping away.
Is this death? she wondered, her thoughts swirling in the inky blackness.
Have I fallen in battle?
Regret gnawed at her heart. Was this how it ends? All those lives I've taken... Do I deserve to live? Faces blurred through her mind—people she'd cut down in the heat of battle, enemies and innocents alike. Could I have done it differently? Could I have saved more... instead of choosing the sword?
A brimming light pierced the darkness. It beckoned, warm and inviting, as though offering her forgiveness. Jaz followed its call, aching for release, for a way to make peace with herself.
Her eyes flew open.
She was in her cabin—the familiar wood panels and the soft sway of the ship beneath her. But something was... wrong. Darkness still clung to the edges of her consciousness, a weight she couldn't shake. Panic surged through her veins as she struggled to piece together her memory.
THUD!
The sound of a soft thud snapped her out of her daze. Her eyes fell on the small figure curled up in a chair next to her bed—a boy, no more than nine or ten, with dark navy and black hair. He was sleeping soundly, his chest rising and falling gently. The boy was Sol.
Before Jaz could process what was happening, the cabin door swung open. A tall man with grayish blue hair stepped inside, his green eyes sharp despite the weariness in them. His loose clothing rustled softly as he approached.
It was the Vice-Captain.
"Jaz," his voice was calm, but concern edged his tone. "How are you feeling?"
Jaz blinked, struggling to focus. "I… I'm fine, I think." Her voice cracked, her gaze shifting back to the boy—Sol—still sleeping beside her. "What happened?"
The Vice-Captain sighed and perched on the edge of a nearby table. "You blacked out during the fight and then Captain stepped in and handled Grak." A small smirk tugged at his lips, though his eyes remained serious.
Jaz's chest tightened. "The Captain…?" she echoed.
He nodded, crossing his arms. "Grak didn't stand a chance once he got involved. I stayed back, waited for orders, but the Captain didn't need me. So, I got you guys out and brought you back to the ship."
Jaz's muscles relaxed slightly, but her mind was still spinning. Her eyes returned to Sol.
"And him? Who's he?"
The Vice-Captain raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin slipping onto his face.
"Ah, him. Captain's long-lost grandchild, no doubt."
He chuckled, but the dry humor didn't land, especially with Jaz's deadpan glare shutting him down.
"Alright, alright, fine. Truth is, after the fight, the Captain came back with that 'Artifact' and this kid."
With a sigh, the Vice-Captain waved off his own joke.
The Artifact?
Jaz's brow furrowed.
Then her mind raced. The Captain wasn't known for his soft heart, least of all for bringing kids onto the ship. Why?
"Wait," she said suddenly, her voice hoarse as the thought struck her. "Where's Jack?"
The Vice-Captain's face darkened, his fists clenching at the mention of Jack's name. His tone turned bitter. "That idiot."
Jaz frowned. "What happened?"
The Vice-Captain rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed. "Survived, unfortunately," he muttered. Jaz blinked, caught off-guard by his reaction.
"He had one job, Jaz," he continued, his voice rising with exasperation. "Just one! Wake me if a strong opponent showed up. But no, Jack had to go play hero. Look where it got him—beaten to a pulp!"
A bitter laugh escaped his lips. "Serves him right, honestly. Maybe it knocked some sense into that thick skull of his."
Jaz remained silent, not sure how to respond. After all, she had been defeated by the same opponent. The irony wasn't lost on her, but she couldn't bring herself to laugh with him.
The Vice-Captain's grin faltered, sensing her mood, and he stood with a sigh, his expression softening. "Look," he said, his voice quieter now, "you've been through enough. Get some rest. We'll talk more once you're back on your feet."
He turned to leave, his hand on the door handle. "And don't worry too much about Jack," he added with a small smirk. "He's too stubborn to die."
The door clicked shut, leaving Jaz alone in the dimly lit cabin. Her gaze drifted back to Sol, still sleeping peacefully beside her. Her heart ached with uncertainty. Who are you? she thought, staring at the boy.
Exhaustion tugged at her once again, but her mind raced with questions, each more unsettling than the last.