The Fires of Summer (first draft)

Deep in the ocean, a serpentine body winds beneath the waves. Its body is pale, and from it crooked but long spikes breach the surface like deadly spears. Smock sees through the eyes of the raven, an eel clutched in his beak, as it submerges, then re-emerges moments later, twisting its figure through the water, weaving onto its back and then back around, as though dancing, showing off all four of its forearms, ending in hands almost too human. He never sees its face. A sound emerges from it, starting as a clicking and evolving into a vibrating rumble, a noise that would be somewhat insectoid in a higher pitch, that shatters his mind like an earthquake. All the time, though its eyes never come into view, there's an undeniable sensation of being watched.

Suddenly he feels an uncontrollable pull in his chest, and he whips his head to the moon above, or... where it should be. All that remains of it is a black void dotted with stars.

Like a giant awakening from slumber, the blackness parts, and Smock watches as a second eyelid peels back to reveal a startling golden iris swimming in a sea of blood red sclera, dashed in the middle with a slit pupil.

Archangel, a voice reverberates in his head, I cannot wait to meet you. At long last.

When he looks back down, the serpent's body is changing, six wings sprouting from its figure like a creature emerging from a cocoon, like some unholy mockery of an Archangel. It disappears under the waves for a while, then some time later the surface begins to ripple, like something is coming, fast.

Smock awakens with a start, jolting upright in bed, clutching at his chest, though there's nothing there to feel. His head aches and his limbs tremble, and his eyes are out of focus.

Slowly he becomes aware of an unusual noise in his room.

That's... You've got to be kidding me.

Immediately awareness returns to him. He casts his gaze over his room, where there's a shiny black carpet of none other than ravens gathered everywhere. Some are perched on his bed, some on the ground, some on the furniture, and some on the windowsill. With a deep breath he realises he'd left the window open overnight, having done so in a half-awake and sweaty haze.

As he looks at them, the birds seem excited to be acknowledged. They begin to make noise, and Smock knows that he absolutely cannot allow that to progress into a cacophony of bird sounds. He gets up and starts to shoo them out, keeping as quiet as possible, flailing his arms at them and watching as they start to filter back out of the window.

"Git out!" he demands, ushering them out and away, until only one remains. The final raven is a little bigger than the rest, and completely silent. The eye it's facing him with is blind, so it turns around to regard him with the other, letting out a gentle 'caw'.

Smock sighs, shooing it, but it doesn't leave. In the end, he grabs it, and throws it out, watching as it catches itself in the air before closing the window, frowning, "Sorry, pal."

The morning flies by. Smock is relieved when he sits down at breakfast and there's no mention of the commotion in his room. This morning Bo and Garrett have prepared a pie. The inside is made of shredded fish meat, and the outside is a soft batter shaped to resemble a carp.

Afterwards, they tend to the farm. Smock manages to avoid getting pecked, but still seems to attract the attention of a certain bird.

As he helps Dawn refill the chicken seed, a familiar raven decides to take its chance at stealing a bite. Smock can't help but feel personally slighted by it. He picks up the raven and holds it on its back so it's facing him, and he narrows his eyes. "You're doing this on purpose."

The raven squawks.

Smock sighs and lifts his hands to release the bird, but Dawn grabs his wrist gently and stares at the animal with wide eyes. "How do you do that?"

"Pick up a bird?" he laughs, turning the raven around in his hand, watching the way it doesn't even try to escape, perfectly happy to be held. "It doesn't work for most people, but... ravens like me a lot."

"Can I hold him?" Dawn asks, outstretching her hands like she already knows the answer.

Smock caves. He hands over the bird, who doesn't bother to shift an inch, happily rolling into the girl's palms and laying there. Its one blind eye feels like it's locked on him. Dawn runs her thumbs over its wing feathers. Smock can almost hear the cogs turning in her head.

"I think I'm gonna call him Baguette," she announces proudly.

"What? You can't name him, now he's never gonna leave!" Smock protests, staring at its smug little eye. It stares back.

"Hello Baguette," she ignores him completely, scratching the bird's chin. It seems absolutely elated, reacting almost like a cat to the touch.

Needless to say, Baguette does not leave them alone the whole day.

On the most part, it - or, well, Dawn insists that he calls it a 'he', because 'it' is disrespectful - stays to the side and just watches, occasionally coming over to check out what they're doing more closely. Despite all the ravens he's seen in his many years, he's never really named any of them, come to think of it, not even as an Archangel. Slowly he becomes a little more okay with Baguette potentially being glued to him. Maybe he owes it to the ravens, for always being there for him.

Afterwards, he bites the bullet and takes Dawn out into the town again to meet up with Emilio and buy school supplies. He doesn't want to part with her at all, but it's clear their paths can't entwine any further, not in the way he thought they would.

Today he enters town knowing what to expect, and it stresses him out far less, even if it's still a little bit overwhelming. Baguette has taken to sitting on Dawn's shoulder. In the town, she fits in perfectly with her new clothes, befitting of her soon-to-be student status. She clearly was excited to come out today, because before they went out she decided to style her hair, wearing it with two long braids at the front, then lines of braids running back behind her ears, where her coils are loose but neatly combed. Atop her head, held by a big hairband, is a bun of sorts, loose there too. With more of her face on show, as one half is usually obscured by her fringe, they look more related than ever.

Emilio stands outside of their place, dressed quite casually. Smock isn't sure what he expected - perhaps wizard robes, or layers upon layers of clothing, perhaps - but it makes plenty of sense in the heat to be in light clothing. Their cavalier hat remains, casting plenty shade over their face.

"Good afternoon you two," Emilio greets them both warmly with a respectful bow. "Dawn, you look wonderful - I love your hairstyle."

Dawn's dark eyes shimmer. "Thank you so much! I spent a lot of time on it."

"I can tell, and it definitely paid off," they smile, patting her on the shoulder - the one without Baguette on it, of course - approvingly. They then reach into a trouser pocket and retrieve a neatly-folded piece of paper and a pen. As far as Smock can tell, it's completely blank, but Emilio mutters a spell and the pen begins to write unassisted. He thinks back to Mrs. Maple and the map, and recognises the beginning of the spell to be the same one she used, however there's an alteration in it, and this pen definitely doesn't seem to be drawing out a map. Instead, it begins to write what looks to be a list. Emilio passes it to Dawn. "Here's a list of things you need to get. I'll take care of anything that needs to come from the magic shop after the ah... incident, so don't worry about going there."

Smock appreciates Emilio very much in that moment. He's not at all excited to see the man that served them again.

"Thank you, Emilio. I guess we'll liaise back by your place when we're done?" he looks over Dawn's shoulder at the list: pens, backpack or other bag, notebook, box for lunch, familiar cage (if applicable), The History of Magic by Maeve Reid, and The Science of Magic by Regus Sanguis.

"Fine by me. Take as much time as you need, and I will see you soon," they reach out to pet Baguette's head gently before taking their leave, heading off in the direction of the magic shop.

Smock doesn't know exactly where he's looking for any of these things, nor how much he can afford. It doesn't seem like she'll be needing a familiar cage since as strange as Baguette is he's certainly far from a familiar, and the rest seems relatively inexpensive, aside from a decent backpack...

He decides to get the backpack first, considering it's one of the most important of the lot. Dawn gravs his hand as not to lose him in the crowds, and he heads for one of the shops the way they came through, having seen some items on display that seem school-y. There's a stand outside manned by a friendly-looking mau-ryxt. She's selling some bags there alongside some hats for the sun and some bright ties for the summer, and in the window behind her Smock sees a little sign saying 'back-to-school equipment sold here'.

As they approach, Smock notices a group of kids around Dawn's age, standing next to the door of the shop, around a slightly older teen. They don't seem to be causing any trouble there, but he can't help but pick up on a word or two of their conversation.

The older teen, seemingly the ringleader, is a tiefling. His hand is held out and from it sprouts a small tree made of ice, a harmless effect but very impressive to the younger kids. "Ice magic is the greatest kind of magic," he boasts, "they say the King used it to win the war a very long time ago. He could freeze a whole battlefield if he wanted to."

"That's not true, they never saw him do it," one of the kids protests, seeming very offended by the misinformation.

"Yeah, but if he wanted to," the tiefling insists, closing his hand. "They say he's holding a ball soon. I bet he's gonna use his magic there. My family always goes to royal balls because we're very powerful sorcerers. We've even seen the Emperor before."

"The Emperor?"

"You've seen Regus?"

"What's he like? Is he scary? My mama said he's really scary."

"My mama said he's really short-"

Smock tunes out of the conversation to the best of his ability, focusing on the shopping. The lady behind it has orange tabby fur and welcoming green eyes. She leans her elbows on the stall cart as they browse.

"Hey there," she greets them warmly, though her next words make Smock die inside a little bit. "Aren't you two those troublemakers from yesterday?"

"Yep!" Dawn responds simply, too interested in the choices of bag to care.

Smock takes a deep breath. "It was an accident..."

The mau-ryxt simply laughs, her tail swaying playfully behind her. "Figures. A lot of kids do 'round here, with their magic, and much worse has happened, so don't worry too much about it."

Admittedly, that does make him feel a little less mortified. "I guess being near the academy must bring in a lot of people with potential like that."

"It sure does. It's mostly kids and teenagers, though - the real potential is at Gore Academy," she answers, eyes turning to Dawn, who appears to have chosen a brown bag. Smock is relieved when he sees the price tag is not hefty. "That's a good choice, dear. Should hold your supplies well. It's got a couple inside compartments, too."

"Can I have it?" she turns to Smock. The request surprises him a little - she's usually hasty to pick things out without asking.

He smiles appreciatively and rummages for the money to pay, "Of course. Just that then, please."

The mau-ryxt nods and takes the payment from him. "Thank you for your patronage. We've got more supplies inside, if you need anything else."

"We'll check it out. Thank you," Smock nods respectfully to her, then the two head into the shop.

It's cozy inside, with everything neatly organised into sections. It seems like their main deal is a cozy clothing aesthetic and stationary. He guides Dawn to it and gestures to the shelves of equipment. Most of it follows the same aesthetic, with cute animal designs and light colours. "Go on Dawn, pick out what you like."

"Okay!" Dawn looks up to him with bright eyes and hurries off to look at it all. Baguette seems intrigued by all of the things there, leaning down from her shoulder to eye it all curiously, though unlike most of his species he refrains from pecking. She returns soon after with quite a unique assortment. The notebook in her arms has a cheese sandwich on the front of it, and she has a simple set of ink pens with wing designs on the caps. She also has a simple box to put lunch in, with a little croissant drawn on the lid.

"Bread and a cheese sandwich, huh?" Smock chuckles, eyes soft.

"I thought they looked cool, and I read a bit about the type of bread that was popular in the war!" she looks at the items with excitement. "I really like them."

"Then they're yours," Smock pats her (free) shoulder and heads for the clerk, where he pays without much talk. The man working it is exceptionally friendly, though - if Smock had money to spare, he'd offer a tip.

Dawn puts the new items in her bag, looking very pleased with it all. Baguette hops into the bag too, poking his little head out from the side when Dawn closes the flap. By the looks of it, he's very pleased with it all too.

They head back to the library, where Smock asks the librarian if he can help Dawn find the two books on the list. He gladly takes her around to find them while Smock waits by the desk, smiling as he hears Dawn firing a million questions to the librarian.

A lady comes in to the store with her child, a boy much younger than Dawn. The kid seems very determined that he's going to get this one very specific book that, as far as Smock can tell, is something about dragons. The lady lets him wander off in pursuit, deeming the library to be a safe place to allow a young child off the leash. He figures she must live locally to have so much trust in the place, and her son.

She sidles up to him at some point, and lightly brushes his arm with her hand to draw his attention. "Hey. I don't think I've seen you around here."

Smock isn't sure how to react at first, looking down at her. She's a good seven inches shorter, and has blonde hair tied into a messy ponytail, as though she hadn't been planning to come out. Her brown eyes look tired but friendly. He manages a smile, looking out at the shelves, feeling too awkward to make eye contact. "Yeah, I'm just passing through I guess. I've only been here for a few days."

"Oh, a traveller are you?" she seems especially intrigued by the notion. "We get a lot of travellers coming through here on the way to the capital."

"You could call me that, yeah. I'm headed for Wolf's Reach, so I guess I classify for that too," he chuckles.

"What's brought you to the library then, if I may ask?" she looks through the shelves for a few moments, then smiles fondly, surely having spotted her son. "Jason's after this illustrated book about dragons. A dragon hunter came through here recently, and he's been obsessed ever since."

"That's precious," Smock smiles. "My uh," he hesitates for a moment, "my daughter is going to the magic school here. Just picking up two books for her."

The lady leans in, intrigued. "Oh wow, are you sorcerers?"

"Sure," he agrees, figuring it'd make the most sense to go with that narrative. "Lightning, electricity, whatnot."

"That's amazing. You're not snobby like most of them, though," she remarks with a laugh. Smock thinks back to the sorcerer outside of the shop. Guess she's right about that.

"Well, I guess we're not all bad," he rubs the back of his head, leaning back against the desk, wondering how she's keeping up conversation so naturally.

"Yeah, guess so," she agrees with a warmth in her voice. "Say... are you busy later? You could always come join me and Jason for dinner. It's just been me and him for a while now."

Smock frowns. If only I didn't have to leave so soon, maybe she needs a friend or someone to talk to. "Oh, I'm sorry.,, As soon as I see Dawn off tonight I've got to leave, otherwise I would. What happened with Jason's father?"

"Ah, don't worry about that. Shame you've got to head out," she responds, a little dejected.

Jason comes running over with the book in his hand, and shortly after that Dawn returns with the librarian carrying two books. He pays for them and leaves before he ends up engaged in any more conversation. It's nothing against the lady, of course; he just feels so very out of place, and like there was something more to her words that he just wasn't picking up on.

Dawn puts away her books, petting Baguette as she does. The raven closes its eyes in comfort. They head back to Emilio, who hands over a few books about magic and some protective gloves. "School won't be starting until just before the end of summer, so keep all of it safe and do some reading up before you start. You'll get measured for uniform the week before classes start, which is when you'll be able to move into your dorm and meet your classmates."

The girl beams. "Okay! Thank you so much Emilio, I can't wait."

"You'll be a great student, I'm sure," the magician smiles. "And know my doors are always open to you if you need anything."

"I can't thank you enough for the help," Smock reaches to shake their hand. With any pirate he'd pull them into a hug, but he's not entirely sure how acceptable that is in other parts of Aldelis.

"It's not a problem at all. You will always have a friend in Moosewater," Emilio shakes his hand gently and politely.

"Well, we'd best head back so I can prepare to leave," Smock looks out to the lake. There are a few sailor's boats out there, but he lays his eyes upon a galleon flying Sanguis red. For a moment he feels his stomach drop, eyes darting to the deck, but there's no Corvus, and no men rearing for battle, just a few guys carrying cargo. His hands tremble and he looks to the floor, taking a deep breath. It's my best bet. They must be transporting goods to the capital.

"Of course, I'd hate to keep you. Although, there is just one thing I'd like to ask. Is that raven your familiar? I notice you didn't get a cage," Emilio asks.

Dawn pets Baguette's head. "I don't know, he was hanging around Smock so I picked him up and he liked me. And, well, I'm not sure what a familiar is."

"Ah, sounds to me like he's just a very friendly bird, then. Familiars are magical companions that a lot of magicians have. They can show up when you first manifest your magic, or sometimes you have to do a spell to find out. I was wondering if you'd like to have a go at seeing if you have one. It's very simple," they offer.

"Sure, why not!" she agrees. "What do I have to do?"

"Take your wand and repeat after me. If it doesn't work then don't be alarmed, not everyone has a familiar, and they can actually be quite rare. I don't have one, but that may not be true for you," they explain, extending their casting arm out in front of them. People seem to understand what's going on, and the arc that they walk around them with grows in distance. They speak a simple verbal spell, and his hand glows yellow for a moment, but nothing happens. They don't seem to be worried.

Dawn takes her wand. She hesitates when she extends it, and her hand trembles ever-so-slightly, alongside her voice as she repeats the phrase. Sparks appear from the tip of the wand and her eyes open, worried, but nothing happens.

Well, nothing dangerous happens.

A sparkling form of a young bird appears. At first it looks ghostly, then its sparkling feathers begin to solidify into a strong black, shining with a touch of blue in the light, and its eyes shimmer. Smock immediately recognises the species.

"A raven?" he blinks. Sure, Dawn gets along with the ravens pretty well, but he'd never have anticipated that her familiar would be one.

It lands on her bag and looks down at Baguette, cawing quietly as if in greeting, and earning one in return. Dawn's worry immediately seems to melt away as she watches the raven sit, its legs disappearing under its body.

"I will name it Loaf," is the first thing she says.

Emilio laughs, looking fondly at the little creature. "What a wonderful name. Hello, Loaf."

The raven caws, then turns to Smock and tilts its head, as if recognising him but not being too sure about it. He reaches out to pet the bird's head the way he knows ravens enjoy. "Yeah, hello Loaf."

Emilio's expression is gentle as he speaks, "Familiars often grow and age with their companions. Sometimes they're a representation of them, like a solitary person having a cat, and sometimes they're what the person needs, like someone cowardly having a brave animal like a buffalo to teach them to be bold. In some cases, they're something close to their companion, or in others can even be something completely random. Whichever one Loaf is, I'm sure they will come to be a fine companion to you. Anyway, I've taken up your time for long enough - that's all I have to say for now."

"It's alright Emilio, you've been nothing but helpful," Smock looks to the clock tower. If he intends to catch that ship, he'd best find out when it's leaving. "You take care, and next time I'm here to visit I'll drop by."

"You take care too, Smock, and I'll keep an eye out for you," they nod. "You too, Dawn. I hope you like the school."

"Thank you, I'm sure I will!" she doesn't look up, occupied by the ravens. Loaf appears to be preening Baguette's untruly head feathers.

After Emilio leaves, Smock heads down to the dock. The local guards are keeping an eye on things, and they seem displeased to see him, but stay put. He approaches a woman supervising the hoisting of a large crate up onto the galleon, keeping Dawn just behind him in case things turn sour. He keeps his eyes down and away from the sails.

"Excuse me," he says, and for a moment he thinks she hasn't heard him, until she gestures for him to wait a moment.

"Looking good, go on!" she shouts up to whoever's using the pulleys, and the crate begins to rise up the side of the galleon. She watches it all the way, then yells, "That's our last one to lift, go take a break!"

That's when she turns to Smock, looking him up and down. She's got unruly brown hair and bold green eyes, and looks to be half high elf and half human.

"Hey, sorry for the bother. I'm just wondering if you're heading for the capital, and when you plan to leave, and if you take passengers?" Smock asks, looking across the bay towards the city in the distance. It stands proud and looks well-protected, huge stone walls enclosing all but the side facing the water.

"We head for the capital at eight, but we don't take passengers, my apologies. Might have to talk a sailor into it, but be prepared for the price," she answers simply. It's no surprise that they don't take passengers, considering it seems like they're transporting valuables.

"Ah, will do. I hope it won't be too much," he makes a point of laughing awkwardly, as if nervous about the price, but truthfully he's already made his mind up about how he's going to get to the capital. "Well, you have a good day."

"Same to you," she smiles, before turning her attention to someone carrying a crate towards the ship.

Smock returns to Dawn. "Alright, let's head back."

On the way home, Dawn can't stop talking about her excitement, and the ravens, and all of a sudden bread, followed by cheese. Smock isn't sure exactly where the interest in bread came from, but he figures there must have been some bread history in one of her books. In all honesty, he doesn't mind it at all. It fills the silence and it's quite interesting to hear how much she knows, even having only had a short amount of time to learn about it.

"Hey, when's your birthday?" Smock asks, watching as some birds in the trees ahead play together. Nature is alive today, with birds everywhere and small animals out in the forest beyond the path.

"The nineteenth of August," Dawn replies. Loaf takes off from her bag and flies overhead, not straying far. "How about you?"

"Mine's [date]," Smock answers, already coming up with birthday gifts for her. He figures she's never had a party or anything, so maybe going out for her sixteenth would be nice, or at least paying for her to go out with some friends.

"That's cool," she nods, watching the bird above as she walks.

From beside them, the bushes rustle. Smock expects something small and harmless to walk out, perhaps a squirrel or rabbit, but instead is filled with confusion when a creature like a cross between a stubby dog and an axolotl bounds out. Its eyes are a pure red, and all of it is very round, even its face, with a mouth that looks to be ever-smiling. A fin runs from its head to the underside of its tail, nicked in places, and it has curious patterns of black and grey set upon its white body. Its gills are fluffy and plump, and overall it stands about the height of a small to medium dog. It comes to stand in front of them, looking up as if confused.

"...What?" Smock stares at the creature and it stares back.

Dawn seems to deem this thing her new friend. She approaches it and pets its head before recoiling, staring at it in bewilderment. "It's all weird, like a salamander or something..."

Baguette retreats fully into the bag.

"Must have come from the bay," he figures, watching its dumb little face, completely unchanging in its empty-headed appearance.

"I think I will call you Bagel... go run back to the water Bagel, you're going to dry up!" Dawn tells it, pointing into the forest in the direction of the shore. It looks where she's pointing, then stands up and waddles off on its stubby legs.

Smock is left a little speechless, but he admires the way Dawn handles the situation. "Wonder what it was doing so far from the water. If we hadn't been here, it'd probably have gone further into the trees."

"Dunno, it looked a bit stupid so I don't think it knew either," she remarks bluntly, and he can't help but laugh as they go along their way.

Bo and Garrett welcome them back warmly, and with a freshly baked tray of cookies to share. Everyone sits down together in the living room, accompanied by the dogs and even a couple of the cats, and Dawn recounts her day (and some facts) for them. The men react with pride as though she is their blood, and Smock knows right away that she's being left in safe and caring hands. They even welcome Loaf, who the cats seem to be avoiding. Baguette, on the other hand, is still hiding in the bag, away from their sight, though they seem to be able to smell him and periodically come near to see if the tasty scent has revealed itself.

"I've got to leave for eight," he tells them later that day, after gathering his very few belongings and making the bed. "Your hospitality has been wonderful, and your food too. I'll hopefully be able to give you some money for Dawn and looking after her next time I'm around."

"There's no need," Garrett laughs warmly. "We'll take care of it all. Consider us uncles, if you will. But you gotta visit us, we'll be missin' you!"

"Don't you worry, I'll be back," Smock smiles. In a way, he's relieved that he's going away for some time. It's no good being around when death is so intent on following him - they're safer the further away he is, and ruining a happy family is something he could not forgive himself for. "And if you need anything, or need to send a message, send a raven my way. They'll know where to find me."

Thankfully, neither of the men seems to be too concerned about the notion of homing ravens. Bo speaks this time. "We will. You be safe out there, alright?"

"I always am," is the last thing he says before hugging them all goodbye. He holds Dawn especially long, knowing it may be a while before he sees her again. "I'll be back for your birthday at the latest, okay? You're gonna do great."

"Thank you," she sniffles. "Will you take one of the horses?"

"No, but tell the one I rode that he's a very good horse," Smock chuckles.

"Okay... I think Baguette wants to go with you," she reaches into the bag and offers up the raven, who happily takes his place on Smock's shoulder.

"I'll make sure to take good care of him," Smock assures her, kissing her forehead, feeling more like a parent than ever, despite the circumstance. "Goodbye for now, Dawn."

"Goodbye," she says to him, squeezing his hand one last time before he heads for the door, petting the animals along the way.

Smock waves to them all, then with Baguette clinging to him, heads out into the ever-darkening night.

Seeing the town in the moonlight is nothing Smock isn't used to, but tonight he properly takes in his surroundings. By the dock, the tavern is lit up, but the rest of the town is in darkness, with only a faint glow coming from the windows of residential buildings. Shops are still open, but he knows that they'll be closing soon, since the former night he'd come around eight to see them shutting. There are more customers than Smock anticipated, but as he watches people come and go he quickly notices that the people populating the town are... different.

Going about their business are an overwhelming number of beastfolk. There are mau-ryxt, owlfolk, birdfolk, even some dragonborn and some batfolk. Smock has never seen the batfolk in person before, but from observation he notes that the locals must be fruit bats from their abundance. A number of the dragonborn have scales and plates in shades of green, some with horns like tree branches and antlers, small plants sprouting from under the gaps in their armoured bodies, moss growing over the top.

Smock keeps close to the walls of buildings as he heads down to the dock, staying in the darkest shadows. It's quiet there, with only a couple of people out, mostly sailors getting ready to go out overnight and catch nocturnal fish. Then there is, of course, the galleon, standing proud among the smaller ships. Barely anyone is up top at the moment, but he reminds himself not to take any risk.

Looking between the ships kitting up for sailing, he realises that he's visible on both sides as the galleon is sideways at the dock, so he hopes the darkness of the night will be enough to keep him from being noticed too much. He slips past the boarding plank that's still down - they must be waiting on a few more people to arrive - and makes a leap for the side of the ship.

He manages to land evenly, grasping onto the side, steadying his hands on the rim of a gunport. He feels Baguette clutch his shoulder, and quietly he gestures for the bird to go up to the crow's nest. "Up there, pal. You'll find me again when we dock."

Baguette takes his leave, ascending to his vantage point. From there Smock hoists himself up, just underneath the rails, peeking between them to see who's standing on board.

There are only two people there at the moment: the woman from earlier and a man standing very close to her. They seem to be talking in hushed voices, and paying attention only to each other, their proximity intimate. Smock isn't sure what to make of it, and he feels a little bit like a creep having to watch them to make sure they don't see him slip aboard, but... it must be done.

He pulls himself slowly over the rail as to make as little noise as possible, and sets his feet down at a gradual pace, testing the boards as he does. He knows exactly where to step to avoid creaky floorboards, staying to the perimeter, his eyes glued to the two.

Finally, he reaches the door to the downstairs deck. If he knows anything about galleons, he'll have to sneak through there and then go down again to reach the storage or the treasure hold. He figures the latter might be a better bet, just in case someone comes down to crack open a crate of alcohol. Smock opens it slowly, but it creaks, and his stomach twists. He dashes inside and closes it behind him, hearing alarmed voices from the deck.

Smock runs downstairs, hearing footsteps approaching the door. The door leads to the captain's quarters, and he's horrified to see a man sitting on a hammock, staring straight at him in shock.

Before he can call for help, Smock launches himself at the man, using the element of surprise to his advantage to hit him hard around the head. It knocks him out instantly, but Smock can't just leave him like that. Thinking fast, he spots an empty bottle of wine and throws it to the floor next to the guy. Just a drunken sailor. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Just in time, he manages to dart past the captain's quarters and into a small compartment where cannons are kept in crates, likely so they don't have to run back and forth to reload. Smock closes the door slowly, and this time it's silent, so he stands behind it, listening to the scene unfolding in the other room.

"Jackson's been on the wine again," the woman calls, speaking to someone further away. She must have left the man up top to keep watch.

"Startin' to think we should ban the crew from drinkin'," responds the man, his voice fainter. He speaks with a pirate accent - not sailor, not just someone from the Riloran coast, definitely pirate. Smock feels a little anger welling up inside of him. Back at Seafarer's Shore, Anguilla had mentioned people changing careers, but turning into traitors? Goddamn bastards.

Not wanting to listen to any more of the conversation, Smock heads out the other side of the compartment, and down the stairs to the bottom deck.

There's nobody around this time, which he's more than thankful for. He figures the crew must be out somewhere, perhaps at the tavern drinking before their departure. Smock heads to the back end of the ship first, poking his head into the storage room. Much to his relief, there's a case of ale sandwiched between two crates, and he happily takes a bottle for himself. Just one will do, despite the temptation to drink himself silly.

Smock heads to the treasure room next. He sets his bottle of wine down and looks for a spot to wait while they sail across to Wolf's Rest. It probably won't be a very long journey, but a break and maybe a short nap would be pretty nice. He considers one of the barrels in the room, but instead settles on a long chest. He throws out the goods inside of it into another smaller chest, mostly gold and gems and a few pieces of jewellery (a few of which he snags to sell later - they look like they'll make some good money), and sits inside, poking a hole in the back of it with his sword to let in oxygen and so he can see out just a little.

He drinks. When they reach the shore, he'll wait until they've taken him onto land, and then make a sneaky escape into the capital, where he'll lose them and head into the mountain. As he drinks he looks over the map, making out the landmarks he's got to look out for along his way. There's the capital, of course, which shouldn't be too hard to get through, and beyond there it seems like there's just a path up and to the side. Close to the destination is a temple, so he makes mental note that once he sees it, he won't be far away. Hopefully he'll make it before midnight, but he can't be too sure, especially not with mountain terrain. If this really is where Axel is at, then he can rest assured the man will be there either way - he's always been a horrible insomniac.

Gradually his mind begins to wander to the dream from last night. The voice reverberates in his mind just as clear as it had been in the dream, but he can't place a finger on it. It hadn't been Axel, though it bore a slight resemblance to him, and the more he thinks on it he recognises a touch of the voice's accent in his old friend's. Yet, the accent had been much more pronounced, like Corvus', perhaps more intense in its prevalence. The thought of some relative to the Sanguis family speaking to him makes him deeply uncomfortable, so he tries not to linger on it, focusing instead on his drink.

It's something refined, the posh stuff that richer folk drink. He doesn't mind it, but there's a charm to cheaper ales that he can never shake. Maybe it reminds him of home.

When he finishes the bottle, Smock begins to get drowsier than he'd like to. One shouldn't be effecting him, but then again, it's late, and he's very tired. Someone comes in to the treasure room, but leaves swiftly afterwards, and then a bell rings up top to signal for their leave. Smock hears commands being shouted, and the familiar creaking of a ship being put to work, and the rocking of the waves carrying it along. At first, a panic settles in his chest, his mind unoccupied enough to bring in memories he doesn't want. But it begins to die with a deep tiredness, one that aches in his bones to his limbs. He doesn't notice he's crying until he feels a tear drop onto his hand, jolting him awake for just a moment, but he's desperate not to be dragged back to that night all over again, and so he gives in to sleep.