Elec’s progress slowed to a walk as he followed the path back to Hinterson’s Vale. The coastal breeze brushed cool against his face. His sweat-soaked jacket stuck to him uncomfortably as he passed by the familiar landmarks: the gnarled driftwood tree near the rocky outcrop, the shallow tide pools glinting in the sunlight. The distant smell of chimney smoke, fresh fish, and saltwater slowly overtook the green of the woodlands as he drew closer. He shifted the backpack, the corner of the lockbox digging into his lower back. The contents rattled as he continued his swift march. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and chin with the sleeve of his jacket.
The town’s outskirts came into view, Elec adjusting his pack to ensure the items he’d collected were secure. The pendant’s significance weighed on his mind, as did the cryptic map and the cloaked figures’ suspicious activity. Whatever they planned, it extended beyond mere theft. He ducked into the quiet shadows of an alley. Elec glanced around to ensure he was alone. Once satisfied, he allowed the illusion concealing his true form to dissipate. The air shimmered faintly around him, and his familiar features returned. Before leaving the alley and rejoining the street’s quiet bustle, he adjusted his coat. He won a skirmish, but there would be more of these smugglers to deal with, and he would need help.
Elec navigated the streets towards the Hinterson’s Vale Mariners Guild Hall. His father introduced him to the establishment many years ago, but never allowed him to go back alone. That never stopped him from visiting in secret every once in a while to hear tales of the mainland. Sailors, merchants, and even the occasional adventurer found the guild to be a central meeting point. The guildhall stood halfway between the town center and the bustling docks. The building was a sturdy structure of weathered stone and timber, its roof adorned with a carved ship’s wheel and crossed oars.
Stepping through the doors, Elec entered a warm, bustling room. The scent of sea salt, pipe-weed smoke, and wood-fire filled the air. Inside, sailors and merchants gathered at long tables or the small corner bar, exchanging stories and negotiating deals. A large board on one wall displayed maps, notices, and job postings. At the far end of the hall, a solid-oaken desk manned by a seasoned guild clerk served as the central point of business. Elec nodded to the clerk, a young, blonde-bearded dwarf with piercing eyes and a soldier’s demeanor. The clerk looked up from his ledger and raised an eyebrow.
“Wind on the breakers, Master Elec. What brings ye to the Mariners Guild this fine day?” The Dwarf asked, “Looking for a bit of mischief, are ye?”
The guild member spoke in a voice like gravel, yet warm. Elec loosened the straps of his overstuffed pack.
“More rather, I found some already, Hemrok. I’m here to make a report of unusual activity along the coast. I came across something intriguing during my morning walk and thought the guild might be interested.”
Hemrok narrowed his eyes as he leaned forward.
“Well, we don’t take lightly to strange happenings near our waters. Let me fetch the logbooks. Meanwhile, tell me what exactly have you stumbled upon?”
“I happened upon a pair of cloaked men near Old Shipwreck Cove going through a crate bearing the guild’s emblem and containing these items…”
Elec produced the lockbox, the small velvet pouch of gemstones, the silver chalice, and the ledger.
“I left the strangers bound and gagged off a narrow path, but I don’t know if they’ll still be there, though. There is no telling how long they will remain or how many more of their crew are in the forest nearby.”
The sailor’s face hardened as Elec presented the items. He took the pouch, chalice, and ledger, eyes narrowing as he inspected each. His hands trembled, betraying his calm demeanor as he handled them. Hemrok listened to Elec’s account, then motioned toward a nearby bench.
“Sit here a moment. I’ll need to verify this with the captain and other members. We too don’t take kindly to thieves or rogue crews around here, especially not on our own territory.”
He stood and walked toward a back room, calling out to a couple of sailors who were loitering near the hearth. They followed him, exchanging brief, hushed words. The guild members disappeared behind a wooden door for a few moments before returning with a well-built, older man who had the unmistakable air of authority about him. The Guild Master Captain, whose name Elec believed to be Brunaulf, approached with a look of recognition.
“Let me see,” The captain said, his voice gruff but commanding.
He took the items one by one, inspecting them with a practiced eye. After a few moments, he looked at Elec, a glimmer of respect in his gaze.
“This ledger does, in fact, bear the Draystone’s Guild mark, though the contents listed are unusual. The chalice and the pouch of gems don’t fit the usual goods we move. These cloaked figures could be part of something larger than simple thievery.”
The guild members examined the recovered items, their faces a mixture of awe and growing anger.
“You did well to alert us. If these individuals are part of a larger operation, we may need to take action quickly. We’ve been hearing rumors of smaller pirate groups operating along our coast. This could connect to them. If you’re willing, we could use someone of your…abilities. What do you say?”
“Absolutely,” Elec said, a little too hastily, “though I do have a ship to catch in the morning. I’ll help ye all throughout the night if possible.”
“That’s the spirit. Welcome to the guild, Associate Miraelavar. We’re in need of someone with your knowledge and resolve. This needs to be dealt with now and before it grows any larger. Take this as a token of our gratitude: It’s a map of the coastal routes and outposts we maintain.”
Captain Brunaulf gestured towards a map showing the coastline of Hinterson’s Vale, the Bay of Pelavor, and various outposts along a part of the Valais mainland, which lay spread on a nearby table. He placed a small silver coin on the table as well.
“This is for your trouble, though we can’t offer much at the moment, given the circumstances. Wait here a moment while I assemble the crew.”
Though he had spent his entire life in Hinterson’s Vale, it seemed like the quiet haven he had known all his life had been a veneer hiding something much larger. And darker. Much like his parents’ history. Elec collected the map and placed it in his pack reverently. The chart had the hallmarks of a master cartographer’s work, and he hoped to preserve it once he returned home. He placed the silver coin between the journal’s pages with deep respect, understanding its symbolic value surpassed its worth.
“Looks like I won’t be getting much sleep this evening, but I cannot leave my hometown without seeing this put to rest,” He said to himself.
Captain Brunaulf led Elec back towards the group of guild members, who were now preparing to head out to investigate the site described. A few of the guild members nodded in acknowledgment of Elec’s presence, ready to move out. The captain then addressed the group, and they readied their short swords, clubs, and daggers. One of the guild members, a woman with short-cropped hair and a determined expression, approached Elec.
“Ilsa, my first mate, will be following your lead, Elec,” He said, addressing the group. “Take her and the crew to the spot. Use your keen eyes, ears, and nose to help flush more of these thieves out.”
“So, Elec, where shall we be heading first?” Ilsa asked.
Elec looked to the captain and Ilsa with widening eyes as their words settled in his ears. His breathing hitched slightly, and it felt as if someone had dumped a bucket of glacial water down his back.
“Ye want…me to lead you all?” He said, his voice cracking. “I’m…I’m just a rancher…I’ve never…”
The captain gave Elec a thorough and incredulous look over before bursting out into a hearty laugh. Quite a few of his crew joined in the ruckus.
“Lad, you’re hardly just a rancher. You’re Runand’s boy, and I know him well enough to know there is more to any of your family than you all let on. That and you are nearly a head taller and almost half over broader than I. But more importantly, you know the hills out there. Our crew are experts when it comes to the sea, but we rarely move inland. Anyway, I don’t expect you to lead any kind of charge into battle. Just show them the way and let them take care of business. If things get…hairy for you, they’ve got your back.”
While the nervousness was still there, a new excitement took root as well. He thought back to all the books he had read in his father’s library. He spent many years of restful and restless nights studying numerous subjects. Many of which became relevant in the short amount of time in the guild. Kingdoms first, then warfare, and then tactics began springing to mind. The two dozen sailors looked formidable enough, and for the moment the smugglers were unaware of their actions. Maybe this will work, he thought, and if these smugglers are truly the foe and not some other supernatural threat, I may even come out as a hero with no need to leave the island.
“Very well. We’ll head to the spot where I left the thieves. Hopefully, they are still there, but if not, we will need to move fast to find out where they went. If we cannot find any sign of them…we’ll have to go by the markings from their map. Hopefully, we can catch them before they have a chance to alert the others.”
“Well, it seems like you’ve got the right instincts,” She said. “We’ll make for the coast and look for the thieves.”
What have I gotten myself into? Elec thought as he left the guildhall, the crew following close behind. Each of them seemed ready for the excitement as well. The group found the two figures struggling where Elec had left them, though the two thieves worked to free themselves from their bonds using their daggers. The group fell upon them at a full sprint, the thieves immediately surrendering.
Ilsa ordered the sailors to separate the two thieves. They took the bound Human and Half-elf to the far ends of the clear area, beyond immediate earshot of each other. Elec watched as she drew a dagger and started picking dirt out of her nails, eyeing each. Elec sensed she would go for the dark-skinned Half-elf first, but watched as she walked over to the taller man instead. The crashing waves hid any chance of overhearing. She crouched near the man, the two sailors holding him, giving him a shake periodically. She didn’t talk to the man, but gestured with the dagger while maintaining an intense stare.
She nodded and rose. Walking back to the Elf with a knowing look, she gave him a cruel smile. She settled next to the bound thief, the dagger slipping under the gag and cutting it loose, leaving a gash on his cheek.
“Your friend sold you out in exchange for leniency.” She said, “Seeing that we don’t need you anymore, we’ll just take care of you here.”
His eyes went wide with horror, flicking between Elec and Ilsa. His dark brown skin poured sweat as he struggled against his captors.
“No, wait!” He said, straining against his bonds. “Take me to the constables…Mercy!”
“Kid, we are the constables of this little island. Now, if you can tell us something better than the hand-off this evening…”
Elec watched the deception play out. Elec had only taken the lockpicks from the thief, while leaving all the other items. He sketched the map and notes in his journal and returned them to the thieves. The Half-elf’s eyes darted from his partner to the sailor and back. From where he sat, he could see the taller thief struggling against the sailors’ hold, he could not hear his muffled hollering even between the waves.
“Three seconds. Out with it!”
“Alright. Alright! Don’t kill me, please! There are two groups of us. One group, I don’t know where they are holding up, but they will be at the drop-off point. The rest of our group is holding up in the forest. Follow the footpath near where you grabbed us. Honestly, I swear.”
Ilsa rose, smiling at Elec. She sheathed her dagger and ordered several of their group to gather up the thieves and their haul, march them to the guildhall, and place them in their stockade.
“That was impressive,” Elec said.
Ilsa nodded and gave him a light punch on the shoulder.
“We’ve still got two more groups to round up. Still got a lasso handy, Rancher?”
“I’ve got some rope and a lot more tricks on hand as well.”
“Well, let’s get after it then. Lead the way.”
Elec wiped a bit of sweat from his brow as he looked skyward. A cool breeze from the ocean kept the midday sun from making the hike intolerably hot.
*
The sun hung high in the air, but the breeze brought a cold drop of water to the tip of her pointed ear. She touched it, turning her head and squinting at the branches. No additional dewdrops were hanging from the leaves, but the sudden creep of clouds brought quite a few more. She sniffed, finding the telltale mellow smell of heavy moisture in the air. Seraphine paused her march to glare at the darkening sky. More raindrops fell in defiance. She looked down to see the warrior regarding the sky as well. As the rain fell in earnest, she could see the crinkle of his nose as his gaze lowered to reach hers. In the back of her mind, she remembered a somber piece of music used in comedic productions for characters whose fate turned against them in the most ridiculous ways.
She sighed, looked at her feet, and began laughing as the imaginary violins continued on. Not a crazed laugh, but one of irony as she raised the frayed hood of her cloak over her head. Seraphine clapped Roderick on the arm as she continued on. Shaking his head, Roderick pulled his hood up and continued, catching up with her after a few strides.
While she was not an expert in navigation, she hoped they would arrive in Pelavora by late afternoon. Though the rain threatened to dampen her spirits, the prospect of a warm room, clean clothes, and hair flowing in the right way kept her mood upbeat. She looked back at the warrior and flashed him a comically enormous grin. Roderick blinked at her before turning his eyes back out to the brush.
*
Elec advanced through the trees with Ilsa just a couple of steps behind. The quiet of the forest seemed to press in around him, and the soft sounds of nature seemed to grow hushed as if the forest itself was waiting. Rather than feel oppressed, he marked a certain, unexpected feralness overcoming him. He was hunting, but not completely unlike when he and his father went after deer or elk in the foothills. He sought an evil living in his homeland, under his and his parents’ noses. Possibly the hidden evil that brought the Waveshear to his shores. Smugglers who employed folklore and cunning tactics to terrify merchant ship crews, it seemed. He needed more proof to tie these two events together. His ears strained for any unusual noise or movement that could reveal the cloaked figures or their cohorts. The shadows of the forest soon became even more pronounced, but with his keen senses, he felt prepared to navigate the treacherous terrain. Through the sweet smell of green-leafed trees came the trace of unkempt leather and a whiff of an unwashed body.
Elec flashed his hands at her, motioning for her to stop. Ilsa halted, turned, and gave a low, trilling whistle. She made eye contact with a few of the sailors and motioned with her hands for them to stop and spread out.
“Alright, Elec. What now?”
He raised his hand for her to wait. Movement in the brush not far ahead sent a chill this spine. The wood was thick with the sounds of rustling leaves and distant creatures, but there was a tension in the air as Elec focused his attention outward, searching hard for the physical proof of the smugglers.
“They are just ahead. There are several of them, but not too many.”
“Good job, Rancher. We’ve got this from here.”
Ilsa spoke with a sudden coldness that struck Elec. She drew her short-sword, and several others that he could see drew their weapons as well.
“Wait…what are you meaning to do?”
“Meaning to do?” She said, giving him another incredulous look. “We’re going to kill them all, of course. It is unacceptable for these bastards to use our island as a waypoint for their criminal dealings. We have to make an example of them.”
Elec’s eyes went wide. Although he was excited to track down the thieves, he had not considered what catching them actually meant. Ilsa and her crew were seafarers, and probably accustomed to such unforgiving circumstances, but this was Hinterson’s Vale. Things like murder and battles never happened here. Not to his knowledge, at least.
“No,” He said.
He refused to have death on his hands if he could help it.
“What?”
“I mean…give me a moment and let me think.”
He stalked up a few more feet to get a better feel of the situation. The low voices of some individuals not far off carried along the breeze. They traded quips, but most of them were wary and tentative. The fleeting words gave him the same sense of unease he expected from those trying to avoid detection. Elec crouched low to assess the scene further. He knew they were likely unaware of their presence just yet. His instincts told him that if they didn’t act soon, things would get out of hand and there would be a bloodbath. He knew the smugglers’ plans were unfolding, but how best to counter them or get the jump on them was still unclear. Then a thought occurred to him as he recalled the characteristics of the taller smuggler they had just imprisoned.
“I’m going to use my magic to take the place of one of the captured thieves. It shouldn’t be too hard. Just use my illusion ability and bluff my way in. They should all be close enough…for me to catch them all with a sleeping spell.”
“Look, I understand that you’re supposed to be a powerful wizard, but I can’t see how that’s going to help things.”
“Captain Branaulf said that this isn’t some random occurrence, but part of a bigger organization. We capture them alive, and maybe they can give us better clues as to who all is involved and where to find them.”
The first mate mulled this over for a moment. She looked him in the eyes and shifted uneasily, as if sensing his resolve to end this with as little death or violence as possible. With a sigh, she shook her head.
“Very well, Rancher. We’ll try it your way. Do your thing, and then we sweep in and mop up.” Ilsa said. “If things go sideways, give a holler. We’ll come running.”
She gave him a reassuring smile and his shoulder a firm squeeze. Elec stepped into the clearing, his illusion taking form immediately. His posture changed to match the tall man’s movements, his footsteps becoming less cautious and more deliberate. He recalled several details from his journal and sketches, which he applied on the fly. A well-groomed beard formed along his jaw. The distinctive brown eye color replaced his normal green. He held his left shoulder a little higher than the right. His cloak flowed behind him, the hood hiding most of his features, but the illusion ensured a near-perfect replica of the thief he had captured earlier. Just another part of the group, he thought to himself as he walked further into the clearing. I’m supposed to be here with the rest of you.
The smugglers, cloaked and obscured, noticed him but gave no comment or sounded any alarm. To Elec, they seemed to expect more crew members, and the group was getting ready for their next stage in their job. They murmured amongst themselves, but now there was a shift in their posture as they acknowledged his arrival. Elec pushed forward, moving into the center of the clearing with the ease of someone who belonged, though his heart raced inside his chest. He neared the group, continuing to assess their mood and to gauge whether he had fooled them.
The conversation in the clearing faltered as one figure turned his head towards him. The smuggler viewed Elec’s disguise with narrowed eyes. Another figure, taller, nodded to him in recognition, a quiet greeting passing between them.
“About time you showed up,” One of them said. “We’ll move out soon, but we need to get the cargo in place. Don’t want to waste any more time.”
Elec, worrying over his illusion, responded in kind, putting a bit of an edge in his voice.
“Yeah, got held up with some local trouble. Had to dig out a Mariner’s crate, but I’m here now.”
The group shifted slightly, and Elec sensed the lingering doubt in their minds, or was it his own? While hidden behind the disguise, sweat beads formed at his temples as he fought to maintain his calm demeanor. The smugglers appeared a little unsure of him, but had given no sign they had caught on to the deception yet. A few of them exchanged glances, and Elec seemed to feel their thoughts, questioning if they should act.
Elec’s instincts screamed at him that the group was on the verge of discovering him. Elec took a deep breath, maintaining his composed demeanor despite the nervousness gnawing at the edges of his confidence. He surveyed the surrounding individuals, noting the number of figures and their distance from him. From his position, Elec counted five figures, each clad in dark cloaks that obscured most of their features. The smugglers stood in a loose formation, some closer to the center of the clearing, while others seemed on guard at the edges. There existed a single flaw in his plan: a lone, distant sentry. A woman, given the smaller stature of the silhouette, stood possibly too far away from the rest to be affected by the sleeping spell. He chanced it, focusing the energy as much as he could, feeling the magic reaching out for them, even the woman, though the connection felt very weak. He drew a breath, envisioning large drunken revelries at an after-party to their successful deeds, and let it out, the relaxing sensation flowing out from him. Four hooded cloaks slumped down to their knees. In another moment, they were all on the ground, snoring.
All save the one.
Elec stood frozen in place, but the woman did not move. Watching her shift nonchalantly, Elec determined she had been watching outward and did not hear the smugglers as they settled into slumber. He didn’t want to hurt her, thief or smuggler or not. He did not want to hurt anyone, but he was already feeling the exhaustion from his use of magic. She would raise an alarm if she turned her head a little more, and he would be forced to fight properly. Resigned to his actions, he snuck towards her, his graceful feet moving between the tiny brush almost soundlessly. When he was close, he wrapped one of his thick arms under her chin and around her neck. The other crossed over her mouth and nose as he pulled her tight. She struggled, her hands going for his arms, clawing at them before seeking the knife at her waist. Elec shook her to keep her hands from finding purchase on the hilt. The hands gripped his arms weakly once more and then went limp. He counted to twenty before letting her loose, catching her before her body fell to the ground. Placing the back of his hand near her mouth and nose, he could feel the weak but ragged breath of the unconscious woman.
Elec took a moment to steady his breathing and shaking hands. The remaining figures snored on, all still out of commission, but he knew they wouldn’t stay that way for long.
“Ilsa…Guild members…rally on me.”
Elec’s voice, quiet but urgent, cut through the stillness of the forest. Alert and ready, the guild members responded swiftly to the call. Advancing on his location, they remained low to avoid attracting more notice to the dormant figures. The guild members emerged from the shadows, carrying rope and other bindings, and quickly secured the cloaked figures. Ilsa knelt next to Elec, tying the woman’s hands with a length of rope.
“Now that was impressive, Rancher. You got ‘em all, truly? Even handled the perimeter guard, too. Good job, we’ll secure the rest.”
“We need to move quickly. Let’s get them to town before anyone else comes looking.”
The guild members worked, tying up the incapacitated smugglers with rope and cloth, ensuring that they were bound tightly and securely. Elec, still on edge and hands shaking, watched the surroundings, waiting for any signs of trouble.
*
While they made a good bit of distance, the light rain did not show any signs of relenting. Roderick huffed, but otherwise continued his sodden march. Even Seraphine, happy to have her little reward waiting for them just ahead, was growing tired of the weather. They came upon a small shrine, weathered but still covered enough for two travelers. Among the several ruined statues, they found numerous rotten wooden structures they figured for seating or kneeling upon. They took the ruined wood, split it, and built a square structure with the kindling. It didn’t take long for them to settle in, the Half-elf sparked the small blaze alight with her flint and dagger.
The rain let up once the sun had set. The stone-carved shelter housed a collection of long-forgotten statues, most of which were ruined save for an ancient sea serpent who regarded them unpleasantly as they sat. Seraphine placed a few coppers at its base, probably in apology. She strummed her lute, playing a few random snippets from various songs. From a ways away, a flute answered one of her stanzas. She cocked her head, looking down the trail. She played another, and the flute played the follow-up. Roderick watched the procession while he sharpened his sword.
“Good evening, fellow musician.” The voice said, a young man. “Do you mind if I sit by your fire for a moment?”
Seraphine looked towards the warrior, who shrugged and continued to work the edge of his blade.
“I suppose you could sit and warm up a bit,” Seraphine said. “What brings you around these parts?”
Though his soaked cloak and clothes obscured much, she could tell from the horns on his head, dark crimson skin, and tail that he was Ashborn, a descendant from generations of mortal and infernal couplings. While Seraphine had never met one until this evening, word was that they had become more and more common in the last century. They were nowhere near as common as Half-elves, especially in the frontier lands, but they were becoming a frequent occurrence. Despite having demon-born heritage, their kind were not inherently evil themselves, though they were often aloof tricksters. But then again, so were bards in general.
“I am just out from Pelavora, good lady.” He said, “Sure thankful the rain let up when it did.”
“They didn’t run you out, did they?”
“No, just much too slow a place for me. Jumped a little too far into the deep by coming out here first instead of one of the other cities.”
“So, how is Pelavora? What sort of town are we heading into?”
“Small and a little too quiet for word of my skill to spread, anyway. Just folks going about their day-to-day. Not enough pretty ones to steal away with for the night, either. Much too serious people, I guess, but not poor company. What brings you two this way?”
“Smugglers,” Roderick said.
The horned bard blinked at the older man as if he had forgotten he was even there.
“Well, you’ll likely find someone who’d know a thing or two about that there. Maybe the Mariner’s Guild captain can help you if you can ever catch him in the office and not out on a shipment.”
Seraphine listened to his words, but Roderick could tell that she was watching his posture and movements the whole time. After traveling with her for the last four years, he noticed how powerful and knowledgeable in her craft she had become. She had experienced things that could only be learned by love, by battle, and by loss. That, he knew, you could never attain by practice. Whether by sword or by lute.
“That is good to hear. I had worried we were walking into a den of thieves and cutthroats.” Seraphine said. “Where are you heading?”
“Well, if I keep to the road, I can make Heathe in about three days if I do not stop to rest but for brief spells. Got enough coin for several nights’ stay before I have to turn them.”
“That’s a hard walk even for an Elf. We handled a bandit group a little while back, but we don’t know what dangers lurk beyond that,” Roderick said, sheathing his sword. “But you sound like you’ve made similar strolls a few times before.”
“Sometimes for good reasons, like chasing a festival…sometimes for misunderstandings.” The bard admitted, looking into their small fire. “Though you two seem like the kind to stay on the right side of things. Anyway, I must be off if I am to make for Heathe. Do you have any more questions?”
“Sure. Play me something.” Seraphine said, her usual carefree countenance seeming to return. “Make it a song you crafted. I’ll pay, as is the custom.”
The horned bard bowed his head. Rather than the flute, he produced a fiddle. The Ashborn drew out the bow like a magic trick and began a long and somber song, the verses in his native language. Roderick found the song and melody entertaining, though he did not know the meaning. When he finished, Seraphine tossed him a silver coin. The bard bowed, stowed his instrument, and was off with a hop in his step. Seraphine watched him go. She waited for the Ashborn to put a good deal of distance between them before she spoke.
“My word, he was fetching! Though my father warned of relationships with bards…and it is not lost on me that my father and I are bards as well.”
“What was the song about?” Roderick asked, seeming to ignore her appraisal.
“It was actually a piece by Sorush about a pair of lovers lost at sea. The melody was changed, the words obviously in Infernal, but I immediately recognized the cadence. He’s not bad, but he has quite a ways to go. That and there is no harm in only knowing common songs, as long as you say so up front. It is another thing, however, to do an homage in your native language. That actually shows quite a bit of talent. He needs to see more of the world, but I think he’ll do quite well…if he stays out of trouble.”
Definitely about that time for her, he thought. She usually gets this excitable around other men right before…
*
“This is exciting, isn’t it?” Elec said, his voice low.
Ilsa regarded him with a bewildered expression.
“Exciting? Compared to herding animals and shoveling manure, I can imagine. You did really well earlier with all that magic and stuff. You think you can keep it going?” Ilsa asked.
Her tone remained light but tinged with a sense of caution as she watched the slight tremor in his hands. Elec felt confident, but the day was taking its toll. He gave her a reassuring smile while he ran a hand through his hair and scratched behind his ear. Unaware of how close he was to exhaustion, his hands trembled with nervousness. He hoped he wasn’t annoying the short-haired woman with his restlessness, but the wait was becoming unbearable. He looked to the rest of the sailors. Many dozed while a few readied their crossbows absently.
“I should be good for one more ambush. Just as long as we get the drop on them first. I figure I can use another illusion to get up close and then put as many of them to sleep before ye swoop in to mop up.”
The first mate gave Elec a long look, weighing the idea. After a brief pause, she nodded, her expression hardening with resolve. They had been waiting in this cluster of trees since the refit at dinner. So far, there had been no strangers on the road. Nobody wandered close to their hiding spot. Now the sky darkened, and it was getting to where it was time to move. As dusk slipped away to a breezy but peaceful night. Elec, growing antsy, decided he would go scout things out.
“We’ll be right here. You find something, you come and get us. Just don’t do anything too reckless. I’m serious, Elec. You did really well before, but you can’t do this all on your own.”
Ilsa touched his arm to emphasize the point. Elec looked down at her hand before nodding, feeling the telltale warmth in his chest. She held his gaze for a long moment before he pulled away. Elec checked his journal notes against his map one last time before slipping out into the night. There were about four spots to check on this stretch of the beach. He moved with purpose and deliberate slowness, looking and listening for any sign of the smugglers. He crested a hill, witnessing the beach before him. Amongst the stones and sand stood the regular shapes of several crates that had not been there before. Must have moved them by boat, he thought as he crept towards a better vantage point.
The sharp whiff of pipe-weed hit his nose. Somebody waited in the shadows near the crates. Elec strained his eyes and ears, trying to find where that person was. A small red glow shone in the shadows of a ridge off to the right. Whoever was there had turned their head, and the light of the person’s pipe illuminated their face. There was a stirring in the sand below and towards the left, much closer to the crates. Two now, but where are the rest? He wondered. While he wanted to go down there and sort things out himself, he recognized that there were too many ‘unknowns’ for him to do so safely. He relented and turned back, taking him much less time to return to the wooded enclosure. Ilsa readied the rest of the sailors while he explained what he saw.
“There will be around six or more, but they are too well hidden. I will go down to the beach and try to draw out the rest of their group. Ye all be ready once the rest of them start moving.”
“Keep your eyes sharp, Elec. Please be careful.”
He led the group from the grove of trees and out into the night. While he had been lucky before, the thought of another surprise attack made him nervous. The fact that ranged weapons were involved made him even more nervous. Elec desperately wanted no bloodshed in the battle ahead, but now things felt like they were getting out of hand. As he moved closer, the air grew damp with the scent of saltwater and the faint sound of waves lapping against the shore. He crouched low behind a thicket of bushes, scanning the area ahead. Ilsa came alongside, her arm brushing against his as she crouched next to him. The night was moonless for the moment, and he wondered what, if anything, she could see in the darkness.
From his vantage point, Elec saw the familiar broken ground of the cove, its rocky shore littered with jagged outcroppings and patches of seaweed. The low tide exposed more of the coastline. A trail of disturbed sand near the waterline. The irregular smudge on the rocks trailed off to a hidden nook, and a boat might have been tied there. Elec waited for the rest of his group to arrive and motioned for them to join him. He pointed out the hidden crates and the drag marks to Ilsa.
“I’m going to let your guild members set an overwatch before heading down to the crates. Hopefully, I can draw the smugglers out to me, and ye can ambush them. If we can, let’s end this without any bloodshed.”
The first mate frowned and nodded. She motioned for the other guild members to spread out. Elec observed her, wishing he had the same level of confidence she exhibited. The sailors broke off and disappeared into the surrounding darkness.
“Be careful.” She said, her brow betraying a slight worry.
Ilsa slipped away into the night. Elec used his magic to take on the form of the same common Human farmer from before. He altered the disguise, making it appear much older and shabbier than before. While it took very little effort to use this ability on himself, he felt the strain from the effort to use his magic. A slight pang of pain and nausea reminded him that he was reaching his limit. I need to conserve my strength and draw them out in a different manner, he thought, but how? He produced a flask of oil from his pack. Elec took a couple of breaths to steady himself and rehearsed his next steps. He turned to check on the guild members, but they were out of sight. He used a small bit of his power to spark the ready-made wick, turning it into a simple but effective lantern.
Carefully, but casually, he picked his way down to the beach and in the general direction of the crates. The oil lamp’s glow highlighted his path. Elec adjusted his gait to match the drunken meander he had seen many sailors display near the taverns. His senses remained sharp. His eyes scanned the shadows. His ears twitched at every crackle in the undergrowth. Although the surroundings appeared still, he knew that with every step, cloaked figures were observing his every move. The faintest sound of the tall grass rustling, a twig snapping, caught his attention.
He paused for a moment, beginning the first part of his plan. Elec gave a sharp whistle, as if appraising the crates like a cluster of beautiful women. The smugglers continued to maintain their cover. He gave a hoot and a laugh before running in a stumbling gait towards the crates. He collided with the closed one, nearly dropping the lantern. The large wooden container did not move. Rubbing his elbow, he leered over the boxes. The light from his lantern flickered overhead. As he ran a hand over each one, as if to appraise them, his eyes sought the shadows just beyond the beach. Were it not for the sense of a nest of coiled vipers radiating from the eaves across the beach, one would’ve thought the crates abandoned. Elec continued the act, giving another hoot and laugh as he set the lantern down on one of the crates.
Elec focused his efforts on the crate in front of him. He pried at the edges of the lid with his fingers. While loose, the lid did not come away without a noticeable amount of pain. I wish I had been drunk, he thought to himself as the weakened nails gave way. This hurts my nails something fierce. He worked the lid open, as if still struggling with it. The sound of it created a very noticeable amount of noise. He teased at the lid, pulling it and closing it just enough to let the creaking of the wood and the shift of the contents within echo into the quiet night.
Finally, one broke ranks. Elec heard the soft crunch of feet coming towards him from the beach. So far, none of the other smugglers had moved. Elec tilted his head and opened the lid completely. The light of the lantern spilled in and reflected at him under the shiny facets of gold, silver, and precious gems. A deep tray, lined in brass, held a pile of coins and jewels of various sizes. Elec found himself stunned by the vast amount of wealth before him. The feet crunched slower, drawing ever closer. While the lone figure confirmed the smugglers’ presence, he needed the rest of them to be seen. He swept the coins around in their tray. People in town could have heard the tinkle and jangle. The footsteps drew nearer still. While he could only see the cloaked figure in his periphery, he could tell the smuggler was reaching for something at its belt.
Elec fixed a dopey-looking grin to his illusory face and lifted the lantern above his head. The light shone into the crate, illuminating the cloth-bound packages and other fanciful things lining the inside. The light also spilled directly onto the approaching man, who gave a start. He looked from the crate to the man, both freezing in place for the moment. His eyes darted around, but none of the other smugglers had advanced on him. Time to get louder now, he thought, and drastic.
“Well, hello there! I, ah…don’t suppose this is yours, Sonny?”
Elec spoke in a voice similar to Old Merin’s. The cloaked figure froze for a moment, thrown off by Elec’s sudden shift in demeanor and voice. After a moment’s hesitation, the figure let out a low, controlled breath.
“Ah…you’re mistaken, old-timer. This crate belongs to no one of your concern. Now, clear off.”
“Well, there’s quite a bit in here to go around. I reckon enough here for you and I to have a little bit…”
Elec set the lantern on the edge of the crate, grabbed a handful of the coins, and held them out to the man. The cloaked figure hesitated, eyeing the handful of coins with a mix of suspicion and dismay, several of them slipping from Elec’s grasp. The tension hung thick in the air as he shifted his weight, contemplating his response. After a long moment, he lowered his hand from the weapon, but the caution in his eyes didn’t fade.
“You’re a bold one, aren’t you? What’s your game here, friend? You think to bribe me with a handful of our own coin?”
“Well, heh-heh, suit yourself, ho-ho,” He said.
Elec gave a loud ‘whoop’, purposely elbowed the makeshift lantern off the edge of the crate as he scooped up an armload of the coins. As he scrambled, the oil lamp tipped over, igniting a large fire in the sand.
“I’m gonna run me down some of the good stuff!”
For a moment, the figure stood frozen, unsure of what to make of the wild, unexpected action. The burning oil spilled out and created an ever-growing fire on the sand. With a curse under his breath, the smuggler lunged toward the fire, trying to extinguish it before it could spread to the crates. The sudden commotion drew the attention of the shadows. Almost two dozen figures emerged. Far too many for him to subdue with a simple sleeping spell. Half of their number went for the fire while the other made pursuit.
One smuggler ran alongside Elec, intending to cut him off. Elec felt his clever plan turn into a mad rush, with the flames growing brighter and the smugglers attempting to regain control of the situation.
“Oh ho ho, you want some coin too?”
Elec laughed in his ‘Merin’ voice as he flung the coins at the smuggler trying to cut him off. The cloaked figure stumbled as the weight of the coins struck him and scattered around, causing him to lose focus for a moment. Elec rushed past, the dismayed man trying to catch the coins and follow at the same time. Another cloaked figure broke away to join the pursuit. Time to call the cavalry, Elec thought.
“Guild members, take them!” He yelled.
Nothing.
The two smugglers closest to him paused to look around. Elec called out again, his voice ringing out in the night air, and the rest of the cloaked figures looked up in alarm. The group became confused and panicked the moment they heard the shout, realizing they had been set up. But for the moment, there was no other sound save the crash of waves. Some of them began moving toward Elec again, trying to stop his escape, while others scrambled to contain the fire or shift the crates. I must be too far away for them to hear me, he thought, panic beginning to set in.
He felt the shock of his maneuver failing, drawing attention away from the crates and solely onto him. Elec made the smugglers reveal themselves, but there were no signs of his backup rushing in and taking care of them. He looked about, hoping an aid would make itself present. At the edge of the cove, he saw new shadows moving along the ridge. Behind him, the sound of footsteps, muffled by the waves, grew louder from the tall grass near the beach as the guild members were closing in. Just as he felt he was about to be overtaken, there was a commotion from the cliff further away. Ilsa and her crew members arrived, but were coming from opposite directions. Now, he thought, the trap has sprung. He took a breath. Several of the smugglers bolted, and a few guild members appeared at the opposite end to cut them off.
The smugglers were now caught in a pincer between Elec, the two groups of guild members, and the spreading fire. Elec focused on the approaching figures, his heart racing in equal parts panic and thrill. He squinted his eyes and let off a blast of near-invisible force that shot from behind his shoulder, zipping through the air and striking one of the approaching smugglers in his jaw. His ‘sucker-punch’ spell, as he called it, as he often used it along with an actual punch to pack in an extra wallop. A simple shot of concentrated kinetic force used to strike without error, and practiced to the point he needed only the slightest bit of focus to call it. The surprise and force of the magic sent the figure stumbling back, dazed, as the magical energy left burns on the figure’s shirt. Elec, however, felt a painful jolt of growing exhaustion within as the spell connected. He had completely exhausted his power. Desperately, he tried to cast another spell, but only a wave of nausea from within was called forth.
Elec backpedalled swiftly, his mind racing as he tried to keep his distance from the two immediate figures while making sure the guild members were closing the gap. Unable to escape, he turned with a burst of speed, pivoted his stance, and delivered two quick punches aimed at the nearest figure’s face. The first punch connected with the smuggler’s jaw, sending a jolt through Elec’s arm. The second punch landed with precision, hitting the figure’s temple and causing the attacker to stagger back.
His speed and raw strength more than made up for the lack of formal combat technique. The force of his blows stunned the smuggler and threw him off balance. The man took a few steps back, trying to recover, before falling onto his seat.
The guild members’ boots thudded louder on the ground. Reinforcements would arrive to join the fight, but he realized they wouldn’t arrive soon enough. Elec’s pulse thundered in his temples. He knew the smugglers wouldn’t go down easily, but the tide was turning.
Elec, sensing the opportunity, didn’t hesitate. With the first figure still staggered from the magical blow, he stepped forward and drove his fists into the smuggler’s torso. His first punch landed in the man’s chest, knocking the wind out of the cloaked figure. The second punch followed through, targeting the lower ribs, and elicited a sharp grunt from the figure as he stumbled backward.
With his defenses weakened, the smuggler faltered, trying to recover his balance as he breathed in ragged gasps. The figure fell to one knee, winded from the force of the blows.
As Elec prepared to strike again, he heard the guild members closing in, their footsteps now just at his back. The remaining cloaked figures froze in dismay, their meeting becoming a last stand. They looked amongst themselves for direction; whether they tried to flee or regroup to continue fighting.
Elec growled, dropping the illusion and returning to his true form.
“Surrender,” He roared, brandishing his hands as the rest of the guild members swarmed the surrounding beach.
As the illusion vanished, the smugglers, dazed and panting, looked up at Elec. His form’s sharp contrast, coupled with a surprisingly intimidating growl, caused their remaining resistance to falter. Even the figures behind them checked themselves. Their hands twitching toward their weapons, the few remaining cloaked figures eyed him warily. The guild members disarmed the smugglers as they took control of the situation.
The last few smugglers before Elec hesitated for a moment, glancing around for others who still seemed willing to fight, but the numbers were against them. With a resigned look, they lowered and dropped their weapons, signaling their surrender. The remaining ones complied as well, shoulders slumped as they dropped their weapons to the sand, no longer willing to push their luck. Ilsa stepped forward with a grin, her voice a bit more relaxed now.
“Good work, Elec. I think we’ve got ourselves another nice little catch. Let’s get them back to town and see what they’ve got to say for themselves.”
The beach became quiet within minutes, except for the noise of the prisoners being secured and the wind from the sea. The fight had ended, and they captured the smuggler crew. Returning to town was a tense, yet silent journey. The cloaked prisoners shuffled forward, their heads bowed and their hands bound. Guild members formed a tight formation around them, keeping a wary eye on the prisoners and the surrounding road. Elec walked ahead of the group, his sharp eyes scanning the path for any signs of trouble. Ilsa walked beside Elec, her elbow grazing his occasionally. Her gaze swept over the prisoners, confirming her crew’s watchfulness and the prisoners’ silence.
“You know, with your quick thinking…this might just be the break we needed,” She said. “If they’re willing to talk, we could unravel this entire operation in the seas between here and the mainland.”
Elec nodded, hands still shaking, listening to the distant sounds. He beamed, pleased with their success, though none of the smugglers carried anything that marked them as the cause of the Waveshear’s demise. No ancient relics. No strange glyphs. No objects with dark writings. He would still have to travel to the mainland and continue the journey as planned. In a way, he was more excited that the Silent Ones had not been these simple smugglers after all. Ilsa chuckled at his ridiculous grin as she continued.
“Let’s hope they’re more cooperative than the ones we caught earlier. This is a lot of trouble to go through for a smuggling operation.”
As the dark sky lightened, the group arrived at the town’s outskirts. A few early-morning stragglers cast curious glances at the unusual procession on the mostly deserted streets. The guild members led the prisoners to the Mariners’ Guild Hall, flickering lanterns casting warm light onto the cobblestone street. In a walled back area, a large metal cage, ten feet cubed, held the first group of prisoners from earlier in the day. Elec stood near the entrance, his arms crossed as he watched the process unfold. When the heavy cell door closed, the cramped cage held more occupants than it should have. Almost a fitting punishment enough by itself, he thought as Ilsa approached.
“Captain Brunaulf and I cannot thank you enough. We’ll start questioning them at first light. If you’ve still got that ship to catch, you might want to get some rest, Elec. You’ve done more than enough for us tonight. We’ll move quickly, and with the information we stand to gain, we can strike decisively. Anything you need before you go?”
“I think I’m ready for an ale or two to hopefully get my hands to stop shaking. I’ve got an hour to spare. Care to join me?”
Ilsa considered his offer for a moment before responding with a slight smile.
“I suppose I could use a drink before work truly starts. Then it’s back to business.”
“Sounds good.”
As they walked over to the small bar in the corner of the common room, Elec felt a brief sense of relief. There’s still a lot of work for them to do, but for now, they can take a moment to unwind. This is the first time I have gone to battle, and I didn’t have to kill anyone, he thought. Sure, I may have given those smugglers some serious bruises, but otherwise there was no real bloodshed. Maybe I am cut out for this adventure business after all.
The evening had been long and filled with tension, but at least for a little while, it seemed the pieces were falling into place. They settled into a bit of small talk over a couple of drinks, Elec finally feeling relaxed after his first battles.
“I am leaving for the mainland in about an hour,” Elec said, tilting his mug in his hand, “and probably to my death, given my knack for finding danger. Being my last moments here in my hometown, I’d love a good send-off kiss from a strong, beautiful, and capable woman. Especially one who had my back in the midst of such danger.”
Ilsa raised her eyebrows at Elec’s bold statement. A smirk tugged at the corners of her lips, and her cheeks flushed. She took a slow sip from her drink, weighing his words. Her lips parted as she looked into his eyes. Elec saw the curiosity, the warmth in her face as her lips parted and her tongue touched the roof of her mouth, but then her head tilted, her lips closed, and her smile broadened.
“Get out of here with all that.”
She spoke playfully as she pointed towards him.
“That was almost smooth, Rancher. You certainly may know how to make an impression, but you are traveling to Pelavora. A trip through the bay is hardly such a perilous journey. I’ve made it three times in the last year alone.”
She leaned back, still holding his gaze, her expression thoughtful.
“You know the boys here at the hall had heard stories of how sly you like to play around the ladies…And you do not disappoint. I appreciate your honesty, though. You may be heading into perceived danger on the mainland, but I’ve got real smugglers to take care of here…However,” she said with a shrug, “How about you put in a few more leagues before the sail, and then come back and see me.”
Elec nodded appreciatively and smiled, raising his glass to her.
“Then maybe next time, Ilsa. Wind in your sails.”
“Wind in your sails,” Ilsa said, raising her glass to his with a clink. “Take care of yourself, Elec. The voyage may not be that dangerous, but the mainland itself might have more challenges than you expect. Especially if you go around throwing sweet words to all the women you come across.”
They finished their mugs together. Ilsa rose and headed to the door to the courtyard, but paused as she opened it. She turned, holding him in a final, lingering look before turning to leave, her steps confident and purposeful. Despite this, Elec couldn’t help seeing the brief flicker of something unspoken between them. She exited, the door thunked closed behind her, leaving Elec alone with the quieting hum of the guild hall common room.
Elec made his way back to the Westwind Inn. The air felt crisp, and the first rays of dawn were just beginning to stretch across the horizon. He reached the front desk where Dalia was already tending to her morning routine, her brow furrowed as she went about the day’s tasks. Elec approached her, the girl giving him a warm but sleepy smile.
“Good morning, Elec. I didn’t see ye at all yesterday. Everything well?”
Elec nodded and reached into his coin pouch, pulling out five silver coins. He gave her a brief account of the smugglers he and the Mariner’s Guild captured. Dalia’s eyes widened as she listened to the tale. She took the coins, her smile turning appreciative as she took his hands in hers and gazed into his eyes.
“Now that is a good story, Elec. Haven’t left the island and already yer becoming a hero.” She said, “It’s been a pleasure. I hope yer journey ahead is a safe one. I look forward to hearing more of yer stories when you return.”
She leaned across the counter and placed a swift kiss on his cheek. Elec held her hands a moment longer, slowly slipping away as he headed upstairs to collect his belongings. When he returned, Dalia had already lit the fireplace. She turned and watched him, smiling, as he made his way towards the door. Her father watched him too, though his smile was a little less than warm.
“Thank you and farewell, Darryl and Dalia.”
With his belongings in tow, Elec stepped out into the early morning air, the sun casting long shadows as he made his way through the streets of his hometown. It felt almost surreal to him. The calm before the storm, or rather, the departure. He found Captain Jorn at the docks, overseeing the final preparations for the ship’s departure. The tall, stout man spotted Elec and waved him over. The older captain regarded him with a look that Elec could not quite fathom as he approached.
“Good to see you’ve made it, Elec. We set sail as soon as the tide’s right, so you’d best not dally. Are you ready to board?” Jorn asked.
Elec nodded, looking to the horizon and feeling the pull of the sea already.
“I’m ready.”
Next – Chapter 9 – Knots and Knots *7 August 2026
Copyright © 4 June 2026 James Christopher Gilliam
All rights reserved.
James C Gilliam 