Days of torrential rain had emptied the streets of Paliano. Captain Bliss imagined this was perhaps the emptiest they had ever been. She knew she would never know. She had never prowled these streets in her old life. She had studied maps to find their path, as they followed the roads to the grand cogwork elevators of the High City. Even in this weather, they ran unendingly, always on schedule. Dressed in their heavy cloaks, weapons hidden beneath, the small team of pirates would not draw much attention. And any attention drawn would easily be dealt with.
The Captain checked her weapons, having left her maul for a more discreet blade, her pistol tucked deep within her jacket. Within half an hour, they would be at his estate in the High City. Within the evening, they would be ransacking the place, freeing his collection from their cages. By dawn, Viscount Muraro would be dead, by her hand.
The rains are crashing down to the seas of Fiora, hard enough to block out the city of Paliano, hard enough that every single person aboard the Storm’s Wake has taken refuge below decks.
But for some reason, I can’t keep myself away from the door onto the deck proper.
I never really liked the water. There was never all that much in one place back home, outside of a few raised canals and some really fucked up parts of the undercity, so most of my experience has been here or back on Ixalan. The fact of ships isolating their people someplace they can’t really run or hide… has proven fun in the past. The fact of being trapped on a constantly shaking and shifting vessel as it carries us across an endless expanse of water is much less fun. But now, with this storm raging, the water soaking the rigging and flooding the deck… well, it’s rain. Just like back home. So, somehow, I’m pressed against the door, even when everyone is asleep, gazing out into the storm.
Gazing out, at least, until I open the door and step through.
The rain is cold as it beats down on my face. Cold as it flows over my wings. Cold as the sky growls and cries and I begin my journey up and up and up. The world has been thrown into darkness, aside from the screaming crackles of light that cast everything into sharp relief for split seconds at a time.
When the bolt comes to hit me, I don’t see it coming, I just see the storm and sea lighting up again.
When it hits me, I feel it. Light enveloping me, every explosion I’ve ever seen echoing in my skull, every drop of rain burning off of me in an instant.
I feel myself fall, down and down and down, limp and ragged.
I barely feel myself hit the deck. I almost feel the wood bow and splinter under the force of it. I don’t feel myself pass out.
Fuck the ocean, fuck boats, and in all honesty, fuck Ixalan. It’s just shitty islands surrounded by the ocean, from what I’ve seen. And everything’s too wet to burn! Horrible plane.
Our hunt today was a resounding success! No casualties on our side, only a handful of injuries, and we only had to put down a few fools on the ship we attacked. The take was good, though a lot of the shipment is goods we'll have to fence to get our take. The crew should hopefully be satisfied with this. Proof of our success and time to spend the money will be good for them. The break from the coalition has been stressful for all.
In personal news, I have felt disquieted after leaving Ixalan. The plane which had been my home for many years, I now find myself exiled from. I do not wish to share my past often, though the people I have met recently through the communication devices seem determined to prove me incorrect. It has been on my mind, as I have once again found myself falling back to the tactics I was taught in my youth, and I wonder how things would have changed if I had listened to my mentor after becoming a captain. I was often scolded during my training for being too brutal, or picking fights that I won at a high cost. Ironically, I find myself getting onto Biilzie's case for many of the same things. Perhaps Gallardo had some sense after all. Perhaps when I join him in the seas below, I will tell him so he may comiserate with me.
Additionally, I find myself concerned about the possibility of my existence making it back to the High City. I know that there is slim chance that he would come all the way out here to get me himself, but it doesn't mean that I won't have to deal with his agents if he finds out. I am unfortunately deeply aware of his attachment to his collection, and his willingness to acquire the things he believes should belong to him. These fears haven't even begun to touch on my concerns regarding my mother, and what she would do to protect the reputation she has built for herself. If she knew what her daughter had become, she would be horrified. At least, I certainly hope she would be.
ATTACKED. FUCKING. ONE OF THEM GOT ME IN THE KNEE. OWWWWW.
Slaughtered the whole fucking lot. ONE OF THEM got a hit with the blunt end of SOME PIECE OF SHIT WEAPON between me leaving the cannon and hitting the deck.
Doc wrapped it. Said it’ll be fine in a few weeks. Still fucking hurts.
As we walk onto the deck of the ship, the rocking and shaking… fairly effectively takes me out at the hooves, sending me sprawling to the ground. The continued motion, combined with the booze that still really hasn’t left my system, is very effectively keeping me pressed to the deck, stomach rioting, unable to hear the conversation going on between Rune and the captain, Bliss.
By the time their conversation is over and Rune has left, Bliss is just… watching me, faintly amused. "Right, well. Welcome to High and Dry, Biilziebub. Let's get something other than alcohol and blood into your stomach, yeah?" She calls for a member of her crew, and sends them off below deck to get rations.
"Do you think that you'll be able to move from there, or are we staying at the railing this fine evening?"
”… I don’t. Like. Boats.” My words are just a little bit trembling, and I am flatly refusing to look in any direction where I’d be able to actually see the ocean below me. “Or this much water.”
"Would you rather be below deck where you can't see the water? I can get ye a bucket. But it is more cramped down there, so up to you."
“Yes. Yes. Lead the way.” I’m nodding quite fast, stomach churning, trying not to let my mouth be open too much as she gets up from where she was leaning against the railing and gestures towards a set of stairs descending below the deck. The whole way we go, I’m clinging to the railing, the walls, anything I can hold onto, my hooves trembling and threatening to give out. She scoops a bucket from a corner on our way down, and gets me situated in a chair safely below deck. I do seem to have relaxed, just slightly, when the water left our sight.
“… thank you.”
"Of course. Sit and catch your breath, then try and drink some of this." She passes me a mug of some kind of juice, taken from the crewmate she had sent off earlier. I take it and press my back against the wall to drink it down, eyes closed, whole body shaking a bit. It’s… odd, clearly an Ixalan thing. Sweet, a bit sour, distinctly pulpy. It’s good.
“… thank you. Again.” My voice is still very much rough, but I seem on my way to improvement. Recovery, maybe.
She nods, half listening as she breaks the piece of hardtack she was given into smaller chunks. "Take some deep breaths, Biilziebub. You'll be alright. Let's get you something on your stomach, shall we?" She passes me a small chunk of the thing. It's not the most appetizing thing I’ve ever seen, it’s not particularly appetizing at all. But it's not alcohol, or flesh, and it *is* cooked. I take it in one hand, and—maybe scratch that comment about improvement. The tack is combusting as I grab that bucket and put it to use. I’ll try again once I’ve finished.
The captain shakes her head slightly, amused, and gets up, walking over to a nearby barrel of water, and dipping a rag in it before returning and handing it off to me… once I’ve finished heaving. "You're really reminding me of the first time I set foot on a ship. I'd never seen water bigger than a bathtub before, can you believe that?"
“My home plane doesn’t have oceans. The only aboveground water outside of some Selesnyan ponds is the Zonots, and that’s still indoors.” My eyes are closed and my breath is… maybe starting to even out, my hand squeezing that rag until steam hisses out.
"It's... Ravnica, isn't it? I was only there once, for a few hours… I just thought I was in a big city. Though, from what I've heard, the city is the whole plane...?" She tries again to get a piece of hardtack into me, hoping that this one won't turn to ash like the last. It doesn’t, in fact, even successfully getting to my mouth, though she can see the clear distaste as I chew through it.
“Ravnica. City the whole way round, everything but the moons that isn’t Rubblebelt… and Rubblebelt is temporary”
She shakes her head, bemused. "And here I thought Paliano was massive. I can't even imagine what a city the size of a whole plane would be like…" She grabs a pitcher of the juice, refilling the cup and passing it back to me. "Drink, it'll help wash it down. Lords know it isn't the most appealing food in the world. But it will last damn near forever."
I give a slight nod and empty the cup again, slowly working on moving from the bench to the floor, my breath ragged but under control. “Paliano. That’s where you’re from?”
She nods. "The largest city on.. Fiora? I think they're calling the plane?" The cup is refilled, and I’m taking the chance to just cycle through tack and juice until one runs out. "... Before you get your hopes up, I don't believe infernals like us are very common there. As far as I know, I'm one of a kind. Hooray."
That gets a sharp laugh out of me, just a little bitter. “I haven’t found anyone quite like either of us yet, on any plane. Smarter than an imp, smaller than most devils, too human-shaped to be a demon.”
"We're truly few and far between, aren't we? I think there's at least one more of us on these communicator things, isn't there?" The captain searches around in her pockets for a second, before pulling out a thick bracelet with a small, smooth stone on the inside. She tosses it to me. "Put that on, with the stone on the inside of your wrist. It should help with your seasickness."
“Seasickness?” But I’m putting it on, inhaling deeply through my nose, exhaling a stream of sparks from my mouth. I already look better. “… I haven’t been on my communicator in… a while, now.”
"The rocking of the waves is making you a little nauseous, right? Seasickness." She grabs another rag, quickly rubbing a small bit of something off my face before I can stop her, though I do provide some initial resistance. "I think you've probably missed a few things. But I haven't really been paying attention. I know you have people looking for you though."
That gets a snort, derisive and a little disbelieving. “Oh I’m sure. Bappy wants his arm back, Kilik wants to stab me, and Leta wants her punching bag. I don’t even have mine. Just put it down and left, haven’t been to Ravnica since.”
She shrugs, unable to confirm or deny the feelings of people she barely knows. "Do you need a replacement? I have a crate of the things I just can't seem to get rid of."
“… yeah, probably for the best. Ravnican or Capennan?” I’m sitting up, stretching a bit, rolling my neck to a chorus of crackles. The seasickness is clearly much-improved.
"The differences are lost on me, but I picked them up on Avishkar, if that helps you figure it out." She grabs one and tosses it to me, and I boot it up, starting to root around a bit.
“Capennan ones are basically just spyware, Avishkari are better on that front, but harder to explode than Ravnican. Thank you.”
She nods, glancing at her own communicator in interest. "Maybe you can give me a rundown of some of the features of this some time in the future. Technology on the more advanced planes escapes me..."
“I’m pretty good with tech. And… mmmh, probably should set mine back down. Gotta keep the people wanting more, yeah?” I flash a pleased, somewhat malicious little smile as I turn mine off and set it down.
"The angel. He's the one who sent you down the road that brought you here, isn't he?" She’s not asking so much as telling. "... actually, it's probably better to hear it in your words than try any guessing on my part. Are you ready to talk about it, or do you want some soup first?"
“Kilik,” I overpronounce it slightly, each syllable dripping with venom, “helped me to remember my place. Remember who I am.” The sickness is gone now, the weak boy replaced with a more… proper version of myself. The imperious Prince, knowingly superior to some bastard angel.
Bliss just fixes me with a distinctly unimpressed look. "You've got crumbs all over your face."
… my entire head is on fire for a moment, burning the crumbs away. There’s. Still a little ash, which she once again goes to brush off my face with the rag, shaking her head.
"No need to pull the dramatics with me, your highness. You've got nothing to prove right now."
“… fine. Point remains. Kilik helped me to remember that I am, in fact, the prince of the Cult of Rakdos, and that I should be indulging, not letting myself become dependent on people like him”
"Certainly seems to me you've been overindulging a little. But, you are a prince, so who am I to say what's too much?" She pours another cup of juice, for herself this time. "All I know is that by the second day of waking up with a hangover covered in blood, I think I'd probably call it good enough rather than keep digging the hole I put myself into."
“Speak for yourself, covered in blood is a great way to wake up. The hangover, less so, but still.” Of course, if I really wanted to keep the party going, I probably wouldn’t’ve come here with Rune. “That does remind me though, while we’re keeping people wanting more…” I pick the communicator back up, type something, set it back down.
💬 0 🔁 2 ❤️ 4 · Avishkar is fun so far. Lots of weird tech, good food, unstable government, and basically half the people here still flinch
"I've woken up covered in blood. It was mostly just sticky. Really not worth trying to get it out of your hair." Once I set down the communicator, she gently puts a hand over it. "Slow your roll a bit. They're already upset. Teasing them is just going to get them worked up."
“Not *teasing* them,” I smirk a bit and shrug dismissively, “not this time, at least. Just throwing them off the scent a bit. But, alright. No more communicator for now. I’m here. On the ocean. In a tiny wooden box.” And starting to get a little more nervous as I keep listing things, glancing around myself.
"If the tiny wooden box part is bothering you, we could try the deck again. But the ocean is there, I'm afraid."
“Of course it is. Paving over it isn’t an option?” My smile is thin and mildly desperate, but I have to joke to cover up any actual feelings I may be having.
Bliss’s smile back is a little regretful. "I don't think there are enough cobblestones in all of Ixalan to cover this ocean."
I maintain a tense little nod, mouth closed tight. “Of course. Something to import, then. So, you mentioned soup?”
"Promise you won't throw it up all over my ship and it's all yours."
“Best I can. This bracelet is… definitely helping. Thank you. And what… happens, on here?”
"On the ship? Smuggling mostly, at this point." She frowns as she speaks, tail twitching in annoyance. "Now that we've decided to be the Navy around here, there's a lot less piracy to go around."
“I know a bit about smuggling.” I give a sage nod and let my wings flutter once. “Just… just gotta get to know the ocean.”
"If you want to learn, I'm willing to help you. It's beautiful. And terrifying, at times."
“You know, that’s just what they call me back home. Lead the way?” Bravado is good. Is healthy. Is me saying that I’ll be fine, probably.
The captain sits on the railing next to me, gently ruffling my ash coated hair as I lean over the railing of the ship.
"I know it's difficult, when the people you care about don't understand why you're doing what you're doing." She carefully brushes the ash out of my hair as I once again lean heavily over the side, giving in to seasickness. "But you owe it to yourself to try and heal that bond with them. Running yourself ragged jumping around the planes to avoid them is only going to burn you out and leave you feeling empty."
She passes me that mug, freshly filled.
"You're a good sort, kid. I know you're a prince, and you have your father's legacy to live up to, but you have time to earn that reputation. You don't have to try and do it all in one week. And you shouldn't destroy all your relationships to do it. No man is an island, and you're going to need those people to support and help you when you need it." She passes me another chunk of hard tack, which unfortunately does help settle my stomach. "And you're lucky that they're willing to forgive you for what's happened, and what you've said to each other. That's a rare thing, you know that? You should try and hold onto them, if you can. Good companions are hard to come by, and wasted if you kill them or throw them away." She just keeps rubbing a hand on my back as she talks and I lean over the railing. "Go on, let it out kiddo. Better out than in."
“Why is there so much sky…?” My voice is thin and reedy, my hands squeezing the railing hard enough to smolder.
"Because there's no buildings around to block the horizon."
Any snarky remark dies on my tongue, partially because I’m throwing up again, but mostly because, well, she’s right.
She pauses as she thinks on finding a distraction for me. "So. I'm going to pry, your highness, because Rune has lead me to believe you need some help. What happened with your companions that sent you to me? Other than your angel friend apparently 'reminding you who you are'."
“They just… took up headspace. Kept me distracted, kept me arguing over everything I was doing or trying to do. ‘Ohhhh, you can’t eat people! You can’t let Kilik be sad! You can’t fuck Zilortha!’ It was exhausting. I mean, Koda was chill. But still, I needed the break!”
She nods along, raising an eyebrow at the Zilortha comment, but ultimately letting it pass. Mostly because she doesn't know who that is. "That, I understand. It can be a lot when people don't understand why you're doing what you're doing."
“Exactly! Then Kilik was ready to smite me, and I just… left.” A little shrug, pointedly ignoring the emotionality of the leaving and the fact that I fully dropped my communicator. “So, now I’m here”
"He was going to *smite* you? That's intense... No wonder you felt you needed some space." She gently ruffles my hair, trying to get some of the ash out. "If it helps, it seems he's been tearing himself apart over it."
“I- you don’t have to *preen* me.” Even if I’m enjoying it, even if my wings and tail have been twitching to reflect that enjoyment.
"You need preening. And you're barely in a state to stand by that railing. So it's gonna happen, your highness." She continues trying to get me cleaned up, little by little. "You should probably prepare yourself for some apologies. At least to Koda, since you said he's cool. I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but you're going to want those relationships back."
Between the ashy hair, bloodstains, other kinds of stains, and general grime, it looks like the only thing I really take care of is my hurdy-gurdy. “… fine. About both things.”
"I know you're trying to prove yourself right now. From what I understand about your group, you've got a big reputation to uphold, and big shoes to fill."
“… dads been guildmaster for ten thousand years, and he’s 30’ tall. Hottest man on the plane, yes.”
"But you're going to need these people. No man is an island." She licks her thumb, and rubs some grime off my face. "No king rules alone. And there's no point in ruling with fear alone. A good captain knows that the real path to loyalty is through affection. Rune and Crow sent you to me. And by the gods I'll make a captain out of you by the time you're ready to leave this place."
”… I’m gonna hold you to that, captain.” A little smile and a firm nod, standing up properly, my wings flaring out to full size. It’s a confident and imposing figure… just… maybe ignore that my eyes are closed.
She ruffles my hair again, clearing it of the last traces of ash. "You can call that your first lesson. Good companions are hard to find. If you've found people who are willing to forgive you for what you've done? You should hold onto them. It's going to be embarrassing at times. Apologizing can suck. But without people behind you, you'll just burn yourself out trying to become who you think you should be."
My hair, clean like it is now… for now… is pitch-black and incredibly soft. “Alright. There’s lesson one. I… think this might actually go well.”
"You've got so much potential, kid. I think if we point you in the right direction, you're going to flourish. Hopefully you'll even put your father to shame." She leans against the railing next to me, gazing out at the horizon. She tilts her head to enjoy the sea breeze. "I think you're gonna enjoy piracy. The perfect amount of blood, violence, and alcohol fueled debauchery... mixed with enough hard work that you feel like you've earned it all. Plus a whole crew behind you to share in your victories with."
”… alright. That… doesn’t sound too bad at all.” And I let my eyes crack open, let myself look out across the sea, through the sky, towards the horizon. A new chapter in my story. A whole new world to explore.
It seems I truly am turning in to Gallardo. The ship has collected another start under my care, a mage I have become very fond of, Sameia. She is another half-devil, of a sort. Recently she has experienced a shock, losing control of her powers and her mind, which has deeply unsettled her. I care for her, and I have offered the ship as a place to stay while she is recovering. I know she worried about hurting us. I also am aware that I could not stop her if she wished to. But pirates are tougher than the average commoner, and I was able to convince her that she would be safer here than wasting to nothing in the cave she had hidden in.
It eases my mind to have her here. I care for her deeply, and being able to keep an eye on her to help cutail her more self destructive impulses is of great importance to me. Over the past few weeks, before this journey to Fiora when we were introduced, we have been carrying on a small courtship. I'll admit to my hesitancy, as I have had many whirlwind relations with many of my fellow pirates in my life time. But I wanted this to be different. I wanted to connect with her, in a way I haven't with others. It seemed she had mistaken my hesitancy for disinterest. It was an... awkward discussion between us, but I believe the matter has been cleared up. An accord has been reached between us, and I am thankful to have her onboard. I hope this courtship will last, as at this point, I think I would loathe having to sleep alone again.
The prince's training proceeds well. He is still distressed about the absence of his friend, the angel, but he does his best to hide it or remain distracted. I wish there was more assistance I could provide, but I think the role best suited for me is to continue to be a steady force on his life. Providing a place where he will be accepted as he is, a member of the crew, rather than shunned or worshipped. And I think giving him a constructive outlet for his feelings is good. Lords know it helped me when I was younger, to have something to do with my hands to tire me out. He has taken to the work with a fervor that leads me to believe there is much he needs to work through, and the tasks of keeping a ship afloat are hopefully a good way to do so.
However I do wish he would stop telling others that I "Kiss the ship with tongue". To set the record straight, It happened once, while I was very drunk, and Garzek and Seó have never let me live it down. I fear that story will haunt me until I find myself under the Grim Captain's care. I just hope that I am able to leave a legacy more worth remembering before then.
“Go be like your dad, but do it away from me and the people I care about.”
Her words are ringing in my ears. On some level, I know it’s shit. She doesn’t know me. She never knew me, we met, she made an assumption, and she’s refused to look critically at it since! That fucking Dimir couldn’t see who I am if I stabbed her! But… is she right? Isn’t it what I’ve been doing this whole time?
Is it?
That’s why Rune sent me here, to stop making myself act like my father. But why the fuck would she start caring now?
Her words have been echoing in my mind for hours.
I see another ship in the night. A full moon, a a clear night, a good telescope, and I can practically see the continent from here. Normally, seeing a ship, I would tell Captain Bliss. Let her decide if we attack, parley, or just let it pass. Normally, seeing a ship at this time of night, I would just let everyone sleep.
The other ship is well-lit, but I’m silent, and no one awake thinks to look upwards. No one thinks to plug their ears, either. When I start up my hurdy-gurdy, everyone on the deck falls under its spell in moments. They stop talking, stop walking, stop looking around or playing cards or whatever the fuck sailors do three hours to sunrise. A couple even stop breathing.
By the time I’m done on the deck, the waters surrounding it are red with blood.
By the time I’m done inside the ship, most of the interior is stained beyond recognition.
By the time I’m done on the sails, the fire nearly reaches the clouds. The blood doesn’t hold back the inferno, only leaves it billowing a choking, greasy smoke.
By the time the whole ship slips under the waves, it’s still almost two hours until dawn.
By the time anyone on the Storm’s Wake is looking to the horizon, there is nothing left.
