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His voice was assertive, his words were sharp, and if he hadn't been listing all her most recent shortcommings Klaire would have found it attractive. She downed the rest of her liquor, placing the cup on the table as Ishaan was done speaking.

"I promised I'd get you home - and I will. I never said you wouldn't get hurt." Despite her attempt at apathy, resentment leaked through her words. Ishaan was right, about all of it, but she was prepared to hear it and she was done with the self pity. "I'm ready to die for you if it means bringing the thousands of pirates hiding in Armadilla to justice. I know you care about that, and it's not just the money." Klaire walked around the table to reach his side, leaving her glass behind.

"We can do something big, Ishaan." Klaire said, softer, but still far from being a plea. She searched his eyes, trying to speak to his heart. "You're at risk, and I'm sorry. But you can help me with this or go back to your shop, knowing there are innocent people being murdered for coin every day and you did nothing to stop it."
 
He spoke of fairness and honour, yet why did he feel like the villain in this situation? Why was she making him out to be the villain? The coward who wanted to chose self-preservation, who suddenly felt like he'd taken his boring life for granted?

A villain or a savior. Safety and security or the opportunity to do something greater. The opportunity to extinguish the fire that'd been set fifteen years ago.

He was fortunate that he could still picture their faces. He still remembered their smiles.

"Don't put this on me," Ishaan replied quietly, taking a step away from the table. "Three days ago, I knew nothing of this. My greatest concern was making sure I remembered to lock the door."

"You absolutely flipped my life upside down. I am no hero. I am not responsible. Please don't paint that picture."
 
Ishaan sounded defeated, but Klaire didn't get any satisfaction from it. She leaned her hip against the table, watching him create more distance between them.

"It's not fair, I know." She said, staring at the back of his head while hoping to meet his eyes again. "It's not fair that you lost your parents and became the disciple of the most brilliant astronomer in the world. It's not fair that he died, and you're the only person he shared his knowledge with." Klaire's hands held tightly to the edge of the table, holding her back from once again invading his personal space. "You are not responsible, but you can be a hero. And that's something only you can do."
 
A pause, a moment of consideration, despite the inevitable decision. Not for her, or anyone else on this blasted ship, or even the thousands of victims. Not directly for himself, but for those he had lost. Once he'd made his decision, silently within himself, Ishaan turned to face Klaire, hands joining together behind his back. "And how long will we be staying in Brimstone before departing for the desert?"
 
Finally, victory. Klaire bit her lip to stop the smile from showing, while a heavy weight was lifted from her shoulders.

"Two, three days tops. I want to get going as quickly as possible." Other than the matter of the three replacements, there was no need for them to have a long stay at Brimstone. "Come here."

Klaire turned around, facing the map table. Ishaan had probably noticed the red tokens placed on the desert, but she wanted to show him. She wanted to let him know those failed missions didn't lead up to nothing.

"This is what we have registered so far. These-" She pointed at the ones shaped like a cross. "Are the danger zones. Known ambushes, snake nests and so on." Most of the tokens were cross shaped, but two of them had a round edge. "These are water sources."
 
Once again by her side, Ishaan placed his hands on the edge of the table and leaned into it, eyes trained on the symbols she described. There had certainly been many ambushes; far more ambushes than water sources, though that was expected in the desert. "Any theories on where the city is?" Or were they truly going in blindly.
 
Klaire showed him everything - the area of the desert that had already been explored, the notes, the maps, every bit of information that had come from the failed missions. They had dinner at the tables covered in books and parchments, and split ways to each of their rooms when exhaustion took over.

It was easy for Klaire to fall asleep this time, a deep, dreamless sleep. She woke up at dawn without any sort of alarm and left to the main deck, meeting her quartermaster at the helm and dismissing him so he could get a few hours of sleep.

Spring in Brimstone was almost as cold as winter in Costa Duba. The colored dots in front of the mountain range turned into humble houses, surrounding a huge fortress that protected and commanded the area. It would take only one hour to get to port, and by the time the rest of the crew woke up Klaire would have already anchored the ship to their destination.
 
The Dragonfly had anchored in Brimstone when the powerful knock on his cabin door echoed throughout the room. It was the second wake-up knock since boarding the ship; he'd been expected to rise and join Rowan on his own accord after the first night. Today must be different. The voice on the other side informed him that they had arrived, that his training would occur later, but that he was needed in town. He rose and dressed himself, an uneasiness growing in the pit of his stomach. This was their last stop, their last safe stop.

Emerging onto the deck, Ishaan joined many of the others, gaze wandering over to the crumbling city that stretched beyond. He'd been three years old when his parents had journeyed through Brimstone and he remembered next to nothing about it. There was no doubt in his mind that it'd be ingrained his memory now; it could very well be the last city he'd lay his eyes on. And so he watched and took it all in, waiting for his command.

---

After waking the navigator, Rowan had descended into the depths of the ship with two other men to extract their prisoners. Shackled for their crime, the trio emerged slowly into the dim sunshine and towards the plank that connected the ship with the port. Beyond, there would be fellow officers waiting to escort the cook and his lackeys to their temporary home as they awaited their trial.
 
"Morning, princess!" Rob greeted with a smile, seeing as Ishaan had once again been the last to join the crew. Civilians weren't used to such a strict regimen so it was to be expected, but it was still fun to mock him for it. "Did you get your beauty sleep in?"

"Good, you're all here." Hofer said in a monotone, with the usual frown on his face. "Boxes marked with a red stamp go to the gun deck, blue stamp goes in storage." The plank was already in place, and the quartermaster led the way down to land. A group of Fir Bolgs waited for them by the pile of boxes, the only one wearing a uniform being a tall blonde woman, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her eyes were vibrant emerald green and her sharp teeth welcomed the crew of the Dragonfly with a smile.

***

After making sure the knot tying the Dragonfly to port was secure, Klaire accompanied Rowan downstairs to retrieve the prisoners from the brig. Lucky for them, the time behind bars seemed to have served to humble them into compliance, making the process of getting them out the brig with hands tied behind their backs a troubleless one.

Coffelt had kept his head down all the way, and as good minions, the other two behaved similarly. Klaire looked back in time to see Ishaan join the officers, that had been left under Hofer's care while she and Rowan dealt with the criminals.

"Captain Byrn. Master Adfir." The Fir Bolg officer said with a salute.

"General Callahan." Klaire put her hand out for a handshake, looking up at the woman who stood at least 1 foot taller than her. Her shoulders were broad, broader than most men in her crew, but it didn't make her any less feminine. Her smile widened.

"Welcome to Brimstone."
 
"Always do - you, on the other hand..." Ishaan jabbed back, a broad smile appearing on his previously downcast face. Joining the rest of the crew, the two crossed the plank, and for the first time in a couple days, the man felt the soles of his feet press into the dust-ridden earth. A small thing, but one he wouldn't take for granted given what awaited beyond Brimstone. Despite the task ahead - a rather labour intensive task so early in the morning - he felt his dark gaze gravitate towards the small gathering beside the boxes. At first, they settled on Coffelt and his lackeys, then on the Captain, Rowan, the towering general, and the rest of the Fir Bolgs. The woman they were speaking to was even taller than Rowan - not entirely surprising or out of the ordinary, but she certainly commanded attention. Grabbing one of the boxes, Ishann hoisted it up and began to walk back up, careful not to lose his footing or make a fool of himself otherwise.

---

The General's hand was firm and calloused, much like his own. With a slight nod, Rowan extracted his hand and folded it behind his back, joining the other. The man had been to Brimstone many times over his career, but it remained as bleak as ever. It certainly wouldn't be on his list of destinations to vacation in - that is, if he ever went on vacation. "Thank you, General."

He paused, sparing a glance towards the prisoners. "Apologies for the extra mouths to feed," he said plainly. The navy base, or rather, the buildings, were not far off from port. Given the severity of three naval officers being charged with assault, they would likely be processed there, and later detained while awaiting their trial. Fortunately, that wouldn't be their problem.
 
Despite the cold weather of Brimstone, the heavy lifting of boxes demanded so much strength that after the fourth, Rob's forehead was dripping in sweat and he had unbuttoned most of his shirt. The young fae breathed heavily and was about to pick up another box, when a set of giggles caught his attention.

Two fir bolg women, laughing and swaying their dresses while watching the men in uniform work. He smiled, nudged Ishaan when he reached his side and ran his fingers through his dark hair, pulling it away from his face.

"I think we've carried enough boxes, yeah?" Rob asked Ishaan, while locking eyes with one of them.

***

General Callahan showed the prisoners to their prison carriage while Klaire and Rowan climbed the horses that were assigned to them. Together they rode to the navy base, where the captain stood currently, looking out the window at her ship.

"You're lucky you came in good weather." Callahan said soon after entering her office, where five people waited for their arrival. Klaire smiled nervously at the way they looked at her expectantly. "Captain Byrn, these are the cadets from the files I sent you. The very best at Brimstone."

Klaire expected she would have at least some time to prepare before interviewing potential crew members, but no, she'd have to improvise.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Captain Byrn of the Dragonfly, and this is our Sword and gun master, Rowan Adfir." She looked over the five candidates, trying to guess who they were based on appearance. She'd read so many files it'd be impossible to remember all of them, but she'd remember at least her two favorite ones. Despite the great achievements some of them had on their portfolio, Klaire would learn from her mistakes and test them all for their cooking skills - as well as basic decency. "Why don't start with... Names?"
 
Sweat clung to Ishaan's face and body, a testament to the hard, manual work he'd been forced into. The cooler climate did little to cool him off, nor did unbuttoning the two uppermost buttons of his tunic and his rolled up sleeves. Unlike Rob and the rest of the crew, he wasn't used to this sort of labour, or any labour, if he was being frank. At best, he'd occasionally need to rotate the position of his largest telescope but that usually took half a minute. This was an entirely different beast. So when Rob suggested a break, Ishaan damn near rejoiced.

The pieces fell quickly into place as the fae glanced at Rob, and then followed his gaze to the pair of women who stood nearby, practically waiting to be swept up. "Rob..." He muttered apprehensively, turning back towards the ship and the rest of the remaining crew. Some, if not most, had already wandered off, having already finished or simply abandoning their duties. Ishaan didn't blame them - no, this was their final taste of freedom before venturing into unknown, dangerous territory.

So when he turned around and saw that Rob had began to approach the women, he followed willingly, lazy smile on his face. A little fun wouldn't hurt, even if that involved setting his new friend up with a beautiful woman.

---

The dock was one of Kala's favourite spots to frequent in Brimstone. Her hometown wasn't known for its natural beauty, but being by the water, where the exotic sailors, officers, and adventurers ported, well, it offered the best type of entertainment. She craved adventure, something greater than this dusty town, and deep down, Kala wished to be swept off her feet. That she'd find someone to take her away from this place, someone that could show her the world. But it was a mere fantasy - so she'd learned through heartbreak and disappointment. Now, it was enough flirt, drink, and dance; to listen to their stories and provide comfort.

Along with her closest friend, the fir bolg had arrived to find an impressive vessel, one that belonged to the fae navy. They'd watched the men from a distance, whispering and giggling amongst themselves, identifying the ones they found to be the most handsome. Eventually the one she'd had her eye on looked up and smiled, whispering something to his friend.

Excitement bloomed in her chest as he began to walk towards them, seemingly ready to abandon his duties. The other followed not a second later, to which Kala glanced at her friend mischievously.

Tossing a dark strand of curly hair over her shoulder, Kala's caramel eyes finally met the first man's gaze. "I hope we didn't interrupt, you two were working so hard," she said, a faint blush creeping across her cheeks, skin the same colour of caramel as her eyes.

---

With his own set of files, Rowan stood idly beside Klaire, towering over her like the rest of the others. His grey eyes assessed each of the five candidates, carefully taking in every single detail of their appearance, posture, and mannerisms. Based on what he was seeing, and what he'd read, the fae had already narrowed the recruits down to two - but he'd let Klaire figure out who to hire for herself.

---

Among the recruits stood a tall fae, lanky but well-built, with a strawberry blonde cropped cut and emerald eyes. Freckles dotted his fair skin and behind him, wings the colour of bordeaux wine. "Cillian Hayes. Originally apart of the second Allegrian battalion, but I've been serving in Brimstone for the past five months. It's a pleasure, Captain Byrn, Officer Adfir," the man said, giving the two a curt nod.
 
Her parents had told Talia that Kala was a bad influence, but she didn’t listen. The idea of smiling at the two most handsome men from the group that had just landed on their port hadn’t been her idea, but now that they were walking towards them like characters from her romance novels, Talia had no choice but to smile back. Mimicking her friend, the fir bolg pulled her vibrant red hair behind her ear, innocently biting her lower lip as she locked eyes with the handsome stranger.

***

“Not an interruption at all, the others can carry what’s left.”Rob said. There were only a couple boxes left, their absence surely wouldn’t be missed and they weren't the only ones who had found something else to do. “We’ve never been to Brimstone before, and my friend Ishaan and I were just talking about finding a local to give us a tour of the place. How would you like to show us around?” He asked, taking the brunette's hand and giving it a peck. "I'm Rob."

***

Hayes. 30* years old, experienced, with good qualifications. The fact that he'd been the first to answer showed initiative, a good thing for an officer to have. Klaire nodded in acknowledgement, listening to the others who introduced themselves in a similar manner.

Quentin Wales, 18 years old. Perfect record, strong, but without field experience. Great recommendations from his professors. Richard Duran. 51 years old, back from retirement after making a bad business deal. An accomplished officer at his prime, forced to resign after a knee injury. The following two were complete wild card - average stay in the military, nothing bad or good attached to their names. The captain's eyes met Quentin's and she tilted her head towards the door, hands stiff behind her back.

"Thank you for coming, Wales, you are dismissed." The boy seemed surprised, but didn't make any comments on his way out. Klaire gestured for the remaining four to sit down and did the same, occupying the chair behind Callahan's desk, and getting ready to take notes. "How many of you have experience with cooking?"

"Oh, I do, captain!" Richard smiled, waiting for Klaire's incentive for him to keep going. "I ran a tavern for four years, and if it hadn't been for the bad neighborhood frightening our customers I still would be!" Klaire wrote it down, and waited for the others' responses.
 
Kala immediately offered Rob a dainty hand, practically swooning when his lips touched her skin. "We certainly don't want to get you in trouble... but if you insist, we'll be happy to show you around, Rob, Ishaan..." she said meekly, though her somewhat mischievous grin completely contradicted the rest of her demeanour. "I'm Kala, this is Talia. It doesn't look like there's much to show, but I promise, Brimstone has a lot to offer if you know where to look." Her hand snaked up Rob's arm, over his bicep, only to hook back around. She began to lead him away, shooting Talia a glance to get busy with the second man. "So, Rob - how long are you planning on staying?"

---

Perhaps Rob didn't need his help; he seemed to be doing just fine on his own. He supposed if things went well he'd need to entertain the second woman - the one with striking red hair. Her locks were all too familiar, and despite having moved on many moons ago, he couldn't help when his thoughts began to revolve around Molly. At least for a fleeting moment.

Kala attached herself to Rob fairly quickly, leading him away and leaving Ishaan with her friend. He offered her the crook of his arm before following after the first pair. "Care to indulge me on these secret spots your friend mentioned? Or will I have to wait and see?"

---

"I've held a position in the Allegrian kitchens, though that was fairly early on in my career." It also helped that he was the eldest of several Hayes', meaning he'd often be tasked with helping around the house, including the kitchen. Again, that'd occurred once upon a time ago. "For the most part, I've been directly involved in various combat missions, but have demonstrated flexibility depending on what is needed."
 
Good responses from both of them, as for the other two, their cooking experience was none or very little. Klaire couldn't blame them, she was the same. She took a few more notes and smiled at the two men.

“Alright gentlemen, you'll be given the supplies and tools you need to prepare a dinner for our crew. Whoever gets the highest amounts of praise will become our newest cook.” It wasn't just about finding the best cook after her last fiasco, but a good dinner party before venturing into a deathly trap was precisely what her crew needed before what was to come. Good food had a way of lifting spirits she thought, remembering the last good meal she'd had.

***


”Not long, unfortunately.” Rob answered, sharing glances with Ishaan that spoke louder than words. It was going to be a day they'd never forget.

A stroll through the city talking about frivolities eventually led them to a rugged old tavern. Something told Rob that wasn't the best place in town, which should've been a red flag that something wasn't right, or maybe that place was just lacking good establishments. He kept his comments to himself, not wanting to risk insulting the girl he was wooing.


***

It was fun, the most fun she had had in months, however, Talia couldn’t help but look over her shoulder every once in a while. Her husband was out of town so she shouldn’t have to worry about being caught, but she still feared being recognized by someone she knew. The places they visited weren’t the ones they usually frequented and they were far away from home, and eventually she stopped worrying and just allowed herself to enjoy Ishaan’s company.

“What happened to your wings? It’d never seen anything like it.” She asked bluntly, as the two couples walked into a sketchy tavern she’d never been to before. She didn’t think it’d be there of all places that she’d find a familiar face, hidden on the nook of a stranger’s neck.

“Peter?!” She said in disbelief. Her husband told her he’d be away for work, not that he’d go to the other side of town after some whore.
 
It'd been a marvellous afternoon; Kala and Talia had shown off the nicer areas of Brimstone, largely at the centre as beyond that, there was nothing but rock and dust. They'd stopped by a couple market stalls, where merchants attempted to sell exotic fabrics, jewellery, and spices, but kept a steady pace - there was still much to do and talk about. Fortunately, Rob was easy to talk to... and funny and charming... It was fair to say that Kala was smitten.

They arrived at an old tavern just outside the city centre. It wasn't the most respectable place in Brimstone, but the food was decent, as was the music. More importantly, it doubled as an inn, where the large wooden staircase at the side of the room led up to the spare rooms.

Kala led the way inside, quickly noticing that the establishment was not yet completely packed, making the recognition of Talia's loyal husband easy enough. He frequented the tavern often; after all, it'd been her neck he'd been attached to just the night before. Before Talia could notice, Kala pulled on Rob's hand and guided him to the staircase. "Come upstairs with me," she whispered, pressing a delicate kiss to his jaw.

---

Ishaan couldn't complain about the time spent in town. It clearly wasn't Costa Duba or Goswick, but the company was decent enough. Rob seemed to be having a good time with Kala, and Talia was admittedly a beautiful girl; nice, but not quite his usual type. They'd chatted, even flirted a little, so time passed quickly. He'd briefly explained that his wings had always been that way, just something he'd been born with, and she seemed pretty content with his answer.

He should've known they'd hit a snag in the road. And before having the chance to eat too. Standing beside Talia, he followed her gaze to the man - Peter - that she'd addressed. She certainly seemed to know him, judging by the outrage in her voice, but it was unclear what their relationship was. Brother? Ex-lover? Husband...? He certainly hoped not.
 
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