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“Let’s just say he’s not as… Friendly as I am.” Klaire’s uncle answered, and she couldn’t help but agree with him. Hopefully the discussion about her family would end there. “Now tell me more about yourself. Mr. Risos, isn’t it? Have you ever traveled on a flying ship before?” He asked.

“It’s Mr. Riasos, but he prefers to be called by his first name. Ishaan.” Klaire cut in, before taking a bite of her croissant. Eating was a good idea. With her mouth full she wouldn’t have to be much of a part of that conversation that would probably consist of the vice admiral casually extracting information from her navigator. Information she herself didn’t know about, but was curious to find out.
 
Ishaan peaked over at Klaire, wondering what her own opinion was regarding her father's lack of friendliness. Of course, she gave him nothing he hadn't seen before; the same stiffness remained, though whether that was due to discomfort or duty, he couldn't say. He took another sip and looked back at her uncle, who had posed another question. Personal or professional - it could go either way, likely depending on how the man answered. And if he answered truthfully, the conversation would delve into his past, personal affairs. Best to keep his answer brief and broad then.

"Many years ago now. I don't remember much, but I'm sure it hardly compared to the ship we'll be boarding soon enough. Will you be joining us, Vice Admiral?"
 
"Heavens, no." The vice admiral answered, perhaps too quickly. Klaire had already finished her croissant and her coffee she could drink on her way.

"I really want to take you on a tour of the ship before we set sail, show you the equipment. You'll see it's the best in the market, just like you asked." She told Ishaan, standing up from her seat. "Thank you for the visit, Vice Admiral, but we really must get going." The man let out a sigh.

"If you want to get rid of me so bad…" a tiny smirk on his lips made it clear he wasn't that upset, but there was a look in his eyes. He looked at his niece as if trying to imprint in his memory every inch of her face, making sure it wouldn't be forgotten. "Take care of yourself." He said, before looking at Ishaan. "Take care of each other. It was a pleasure to meet you, Ishaan. I hope we get to do this again."

Klaire didn't want to do this, especially not in front of her new employee. She hugged her uncle regardless, whispering in his ear.

"I will come back, I promise. Just like you and father did."

It was a quick hug, and not a single tear was dropped in their departure. As she walked away from her uncle, Klaire smiled a last goodbye and waited for Ishaan to walk with her to the Dragonfly.
 
With a final handshake and polite smile, the pair departed, leaving the friendly brother behind. For a minute or two, they walked in silence down the cobblestone street, Ishaan favouring the left side, where the sea harboured dozens upon dozens of anchored ships, big and small. Finally, he spoke, unable to contain himself any further. "Byrn, where are we going?"
 
They hadn't even made it to the ship yet when Ishaan asked about their destination. Of course he was curious, Klaire couldn't blame him for it and was actually surprised they'd come this far without him demanding some answers. She wished he could have held it back just a little while longer.

Ishaan would've caught the hesitation, for Klaire wasn't the best at hiding her emotions. She knew she had to tell him the truth, but the way she would choose to tell it was just as important as the information itself, and finding the words that wouldn't make him run away was no easy feat.

"First, we'll make a stop at Brimstone. It should take us around three days to get there, if the weather is favorable." She talked while they walked, her eyes locked on the Dragonfly that was now just ahead of them.

"The empire has control over that region, it's the safest route for us to fly through the mountains and get to the desert." The desert. It was beyond their control and was known for being no man's land. There were rumors about a city in the heart of the desert, where the outlaws and rebels held control with no juristiction. A pirate city, so to speak. Klaire and Ishaan had arrived at the plank that connected the docks to the ship that was supposed to house them for the next couple months. "Have you ever heard of Armadilla?"
 
Silence filled the air, the air between them at least, and for a moment, Ishaan wondered if she'd even heard him. The Captain kept her gaze on the ship, which sat handsomely down the pier, the flags of the fae empire blowing softly in the breeze. As they drew closer, the ship grew in size until the man had to strain his neck to view the beauty in all of her glory.

Brimstone.

He knew of it, travelled through it a long time ago with his family, who had originated from a smaller village bordering the mountains, dividing the continent from the badlands and desert beyond. His breath hitched in his throat as she continued, finally providing the details that she'd kept hidden. And for good reason. Had he known they'd be flying through the desert, through the lawless lands, he'd have said no. He could still say no. Fuck the contract.

"The pirate city?" He whispered slowly, stopping beside the plank and turning to face Klaire. "You want me to navigate the ship to the elusive pirate city?"
 
She sighed, meeting his dark gaze. Klaire had already crossed the plank half way, while Ishaan stood still, one foot in and the other out. A part of her regretted telling him before it was too late and they were already up in the air, but she couldn't do this to him. She wouldn't do this to anyone.

"Navigate to the elusive pirate city and map its location. That's the mission." Her eyebrows furrowed and she offered her hand to him, not only to help him board the ship, but to seal the deal for this suicidal mission.

"I'm not going to force you to come, it's your choice." She said, placing her other hand on her chest. "I made you a promise, and I'm going to keep it if it costs my life. You'll be back, rich and responsible for destroying the biggest pirate threat to the empire."
 
Ishaan stared at her, dark eyes meeting and unable to look away. She seemed to sense his apprehension, though that was hardly a difficult task. He straddled the line, the decision, quite literally; one foot on land, the cobblestones rooting him to safety, security, familiarity, while the other remained unsteady on the plank. High risk, high reward, the adventure of a lifetime, it was all present on this wobbly piece of wood, where Klaire stood with her arm outstretched towards him.

You'll be back, rich and responsible for destroying the biggest pirate threat to the empire.

Her words were enticing, her promise strong, but not guaranteed. He shifted back, quite nearly removing his foot from the plank when another voice rang out. This young voice, however, remained only in his head, in his memories. It'd been years since he'd last heard it, though it echoed as if it never left.

Come on, Shaan, you promised an adventure.

Heart racing wildly, the man hesitated, dropping his gaze down to the space between the dock and the ship, where the ocean water lapped up the sides. Well, this would certainly classify as an adventure, right?

Once again, a dark gaze met hers, though this time, he paired it with a hand, which took her smaller one and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He'd signed a contract, made a promise, and Ishaan was a man of his word. "Okay," he told her, before leaving the cobblestones behind.
 
She smiled, stepping out of the plank and into the main deck and guiding Ishaan to do the same.

“Welcome to the Dragonfly.”

There were nine men in uniform walking around the deck, some checking the ropes, the helm, and others just quietly lying around waiting for the captain to arrive. Klaire squeezed Ishaan’s hand one last time before letting go of it, and gesturing for him to join the others as they rushed to form a line.

“Thank you, all of you for joining me in this expedition.” She said, her tone shifting from casual to the way a captain ought to speak. Klaire’s hands were behind her back as she walked past Ishaan and the officers that’d be under her command and care for the duration of this mission. “You’re all familiar with the importance of what we’re about to do. Quartermaster, is the ship ready to set sail?”

“Aye, captain.” A man said - not a fairy like most of the crew, but an elf. His skin that was naturally pale was stained by sun marks and red on his cheeks and nose. He was tall and muscular, his ginger hair trimmed like all other officers. Klaire stopped in front of him, but her eyes were now in Ishaan.

“Show our navigator to his cabin, I’ll take care of the rest.” She took a couple steps back, shouting orders to her officers, who began to move and do what they were told. Klaire knew Ishaan would be in good hands as she made her way to the helm of the ship. “Pull the anchor! We’re going up.”
 
Along the far end of the ship stood a man of great stature, listening and observing as the Captain and her hire boarded the ship. He had to be well over six feet tall, built like an ox, with skin the colour of deep onyx and wings the colour of gold. Those grey eyes had witnessed many horrors over the years, though he looked much younger than he truly was. Silently, the man took in their navigator's appearance; he looked strong enough for a civilian, tall, broad shoulders, likely had some muscle tone beneath those proper clothes. However, when compared to the rest of the crew, his lack of strength and discipline was clearly noticeable. Though the master gunner knew not to underestimate the unknown. Especially with wings like those, weak and dull, yet carried in a confidant manner, as if the man didn't give a fuck about what others thought. Perhaps he'd fit in just fine.

He was among the first to join the line, obediently waiting and listening for his Captain's command. As she dismissed the lot, the man hid the burst of pride that overtook his being, keeping that stoic expression firmly on his face. Yet he followed after her, letting the young pups, the lower ranking soldiers complete their duties. His were already completed; the cannons were in perfect working order, cannon balls and powder at the ready, as was their stock of the finest weaponry he could get his hands on. He didn't anticipate needing them for at least a couple days, but it was always prudent to be prepared.

"So, that is Mr. Cilma," the Rowan Adfir said, joining Klaire at the helm.


---

As the quartermaster approached, tall and stern, Ishaan extended his hand to the elf. "Ishaan Riasos."
 
Klaire's lips curled up when Master Adfir stood behind her.

"Well… Not quite." She said, her eyes at the horizon while the sounds of the engines of the ship being turned on filled her ears. "He's Cilma's apprentice, Ishaan Riasos. Just as qualified." Each time she said it, Klaire believed her words more. She was confident on the choice she'd made, despite the impulsiveness of it, and confident on the crew she'd put together.

The ship left the shore, floating through the sea and gaining speed by the second. A cool breeze lifted Klaire's wavy hair the same way it blew through her gut. it was the same feeling of flying for the first time.

***

The quartermaster looked down at this new navigator, wearing plainclothes and an overdue haircut. He stood out like a sore thumb, making it obvious that the man got lost in a place he didn't belong.

"Follow me, Mr. Riasos." He said, ignoring Ishaan's hand and walking to where the Navigator's cabin was. He didn't turn to make sure the fairy was behind him. "Call me Officer Hofer."

Darius Hofer stopped on a halt, pausing briefly before opening up the door, allowing Ishaan to walk in first.
 
A man of few words, Rowan nodded once, acknowledging Klaire's response and the confidence behind it. They had a history together; one that spanned many years, many moments of frustration, but also accomplishment. So now, he held nothing but respect for the woman she'd become. For his Captain. He was not blind though - a new, young, female Captain among a crew of men; men who were the best of the best, but who potentially also believed that she might be unworthy. Out of her depth. Perhaps that was a factor underlying her unwavering confidence. He said nothing though - she'd need that confidence to manage these men. And he'd provide his support where absolutely necessary.

Once they were airborne, Rowan spoke once more. "Does he require training?"

---

His hand dropped after lingering in the air awkwardly, though Ishaan forced a small smile to appear on his lips. Not a total surprise, but rather a disappointment. So this is what he'd have to navigate, at least for the first little while. The man brushed it off, no stranger to being looked down upon or underestimated, and followed after Officer Hofer. They walked in silence until reaching the door, where Ishaan slowed to meet the quartermaster's gaze. "Home sweet home?" He asked with a smile, before entering into the room.
 
Klaire had thought about the subject. With old Cilma, she didn't expect training would've been necessary or even useful, but Ishaan was young and fit and probably strong… He'd be better off armed, at the very least.

"I'll meet with him tonight, test his skill level. If he's good enough he can train with the rest, if not… He may need private tutoring." She smiled. "I'm sure he'll pick it up quickly, with the best master to teach him."

The compliment was genuine, as Klaire wouldn't have gotten to the place of captain (or at least not as quickly) had it not been her years of training with Rowan. Ishaan would be in the best hands learning from him.

***

"If that's what you want to call it." Darius muttered, waiting quietly by the door for long enough to Ishaan inspect the room.

"Do you need anything else, Mr. Riasos?" He asked.
 
The man remained pensive, mulling over the idea of training a middle-aged man from scratch. It wouldn't come as naturally, depending on his skill level, but he supposed a mediocre fighter was better than a helpless damsel. After all, the odds of developing skill beyond mediocrity within two months, when navigation was his priority, was severely low. It didn't matter if he was the best teacher, as Klaire so graciously claimed, or not. It was reality.

"I will do my best, Captain," he responded lowly, giving her a slight nod. And then he took his leave, allowing her to settle her own thoughts as they sailed forward, leaving behind Costa Duba until it was a mere speck.

---

The room was bigger than expected. It contained a bed, a small dresser for his personal belongings and clothing, a bookshelf that held some of the the greatest texts about navigation and celestial charting, and a large wooden desk, equipped with everything he'd ever need to be successful in this position. Ishaan strode inside and began to inspect the gadgets and instruments, unable to hide his awe and excitement. Klaire had truly outdone herself. Some of these items would've likely cost him an arm and leg, yet somehow he'd get the pleasure of using them. "No, thank you Officer Hofer," he managed to get out, unable to take his eyes off the golden sextant. Completely distracted by his new toys, the man didn't hear the door close.

-

The rest of the day had been quiet. After the initial excitement had died down, Ishaan had settled in, unpacked his belongings and had gotten to work by charting their route to Brimstone. Obviously, the act was completely unnecessary, but he simply couldn't help himself. Afterwards, he'd taken a walk around the ship, a self-directed tour of sorts, and introduced himself individually to most of the crew. They didn't seem all that impressed with him, and he didn't blame them. He was an outsider; a scrawny civilian who didn't fit into their world of sailing, fighting, and protecting. He'd just have to prove them wrong, wouldn't he? The man observed as they trained, and afterwards, stretched his legs by walking from one end of the ship to the other. He learned that he enjoyed the gentle wind in his hair, how it tickled his face, and cooled his skin.

Soon enough, Ishaan was watching the sun set, from a vantage point he'd never imagined being in. And to think, he'd once believed that the prettiest sunsets could be seen from the beach in Goswick. Darkness nearly enveloped him as he stood, stomach grumbling, signalling that it was time to eat. It seemed like he wasn't the only one either, as the other men began to descend below deck to the mess hall.
 
Klaire set the route to Brimstone before handing down the helm to her quartermaster. After that, most of her day had been spent locked in her office, reading and signing boring legal documents before it got too dark for her to see without a lamp. Instead of lighting up a candle she stood up and put the documents down, heading out to the mess hall and waiting by the door until Ishaan walked by.

"Come with me," she said, gesturing for him to follow her back to the main deck. She'd apologize later for stealing him from his dinner, but it was better not to do this with a full stomach. She looked over her shoulder to make sure he was following as she climbed the stairs up to the forecastle.

By the time Ishaan caught up to her, there were two swords made of wood in hands.

"Have you ever used a real one before?" The brunette asked, handing one of them over to him.
 
After dismissing him that morning, Ishaan hadn't seen Byrn all day. She was, after all, Captain of the vessel, and likely had many things to do other than keep him company. So when she appeared, still nearly a stranger but less so than the others, a smile appeared on his face. He followed her without a complaint, despite the hunger that tugged on his stomach.

They arrived back on the deck, this time completely alone. The sound of the wind meeting the sails was all that could be heard. It was better this way, especially after she handed him the wooden weapon.

Ishaan stared at it intently but took it within his grasp. "I haven't, no," he said honestly, suddenly feeling his nerves creeping in. He'd never even used a wooden sword like this, only pieces of driftwood or long branches. Never the real deal.
 
Klaire held her first real sword when she was four. She knew she hadn't been born into a regular family, but it was something so familiar to her that Ishaan's answer came as a surprise. Rowan would have a bigger challenge than she had expected.

She stepped back, allowing Ishaan space and time to feel the weapon in his hand. It was slightly lighter than the real thing, but for someone who never held a sword before it was the most appropriate.

"Let's pretend I'm a pirate attacking the ship. You're alone, the person assigned to protect you is dead. What do you do?" She asked, slowly walking across the edge of the forecastle with her sword's tip pointing down.
 
The sword, despite being wooden, felt completely foreign to Ishaan. He couldn't imagine what holding a real sword would elicit, not when his weapon of choice had always been a pen. Once or twice, in his youth, he'd had to use his fists. But never a real weapon. Not like this.

For a moment or two, the man tried to find the most comfortable grip, yearning for a balance amongst the weight. When he thought he'd finally found it, Byrn placed him in an imaginary scenario he hoped would never happen. Likely because there was no chance of surviving it. None. It was pathetic really.

Ishaan chuckled lightly and shook his head. It was easier to laugh at himself than feel the burn of embarrassment. "I'd try to strike a bargain with them. On occasion, I can be quite charming, don't you think?" He flashed her a smile, the sword dangling limply by his side. "But, if I truly had to stand and fight..." The man lunged forward, slashing the wooden sword towards her, as he'd done as a child, as he'd seen the crew do earlier.
 
She did think he was charming, but that was not the point. The point was for him to have the ability to defend himself in a case of life or death, even if he might be better off using his charisma, though she doubted it'd work on everyone.

As Ishaan lunged forward Klaire raised her sword to meet his. He was strong, she’d give him that, but sloppy. The captain raised the hilt of her weapon and broke off the binder, flapping her wings to jump and trap Ishaan’s wooden blade under her arm, pressing the edge of hers to his wrist and pulling it back, releasing his grip from the sword, that was now in her posession. She tossed it back at him, this time taking a defensive stance.

“Don’t hold back, I’ll be fine.” She said before attacking, prioritizing speed over strength so Ishaan wouldn’t end up bruised.
 
Charm didn't seem to have an effect on Klaire, at least not in this very moment. And to be fair, he hadn't expected it to. He had expected her to disarm him quickly, with as little ease as disarming an innocent babe. He fumbled the sword but kept it from clattering onto the deck when she tossed it back to him, quickly adjusting his grip. "I wouldn't dare hold back on you, Byrn," he replied, just barely blocking her attack. He pushed back, without the same momentum she'd gained from her fluttering wings, though he hoped it'd be enough to provide another opening to swing again.
 
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