67. (Patreon)

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67.

I stood over the body of my father and processed the fact he was once again gone from my world. It had been a shock to learn he lived and I had a quest leading me to him. It had been a struggle to learn who he was, the good and the bad, these last few weeks.

Yet I had done it. I had wrapped my mind around this man being my parent. I had even forced myself to forgive him, whether he had wanted it or not. There was no reason we couldn’t have parted as neutral acquaintances – stars, I would have understood him warning me it was his duty to follow orders! What I received instead was all the hatred my father had bottled up towards me, my mother and himself. He’d channeled all that into me.

And now he was gone again.

You have earned the title: Patricide!

Depths take the man, why was my existence such an offense that it provoked such spite from him at the beginning of my life and the end of his?

I knelt beside him. It was just the two of us, no one else on the ship mustering the courage yet to even climb up the quarterdeck. I’d seen enough death to know that when people said someone looked ‘peaceful’ they meant the way facial muscles relaxed with the rest of the body. There was a requirement that the rest of the body or scene not counteract the perception of the face; no gruesomeness that reminded the living a person had died violently.

My father didn’t look peaceful, and it had nothing to do with his wounds or the damaged ship. His eyes were wide, with burst blood vessels in the sclera, and his distant stare somehow looked like a glare. The eyes were the windows to the mind, and even glazed over they conveyed his spite.

No, he didn’t look like he was resting peacefully.

Thoughts of his restless spirit made me check my Raise Crew ability. Sure enough, my father’s name was at the top of the list, followed by Lockwood and his lackeys.

I wasn’t foolish enough to try and conscript their spirits. Besides needing their willing participation, I would never trust them if they did except my offer at a second lease on life. The only reason I might have to even try would be to show them the same kind of spite my father showed before killing them a second time.

I didn’t consider that either. Not seriously, anyway. They were just intrusive thoughts as I closed my father’s eyelids in an attempt to grant him in death what he’d denied in life.

I thought about pushing his body overboard for a burial at sea – it’s what I would have wanted. I left him where he lay because I realized doing so would be seen by others as contempt rather than respect, and he surely had others who knew him better than I that would wish to bury him.

So I left his corpse behind me, still coming to terms with the fact that he was once again gone, and it was because I killed him.

You have earned the title: Patricide!

There were two titles I had earned: Slaver and Patricide. I hated that fact. My achievements spoke of a lifesaver, a man of compassion. My titles spoke of a villain, a man who disdained others.

I was more than my titles. More than my achievements, my stats, my curse, or even my reputation. I had committed to being a better man than my father, and in his downfall he’d shown me my mistakes and how I might avoid them.

I would be a better man. I would be a better Captain!

I had finally completed one of the quests I’d collected. I reviewed the entire quest chain:

You have unlocked the quest Sins of the Father. Despite your personal admonitions on how you never cared who your father was, deep down you recognized it was untrue. Now, the identity of your father will have untold consequences for your new life. Find out who he is!

You have tracked down the man whose blood you share. You have found that you have the sea in common, but are on opposite sides of a major conflict. The question remains: what will you do now?

Honored is the father whose son follows in his footsteps. You have worked diligently to understand and learn about the man your father is and has been. This knowledge can be both a blessing and a curse.

There is always a higher path: you have made the decision to free your father from the guilt of his mistakes, making the first overture towards a healed relationship. Few would fault you for leaving on such terms, never to speak again. Will that be your course?

Blood on the seas! Redemption and mercy were too much to hope for from your story. Whereas once you had extended an arm to your father in peace, now you have reneged and claimed his life as payment for his misdeeds. You may have lost a potential ally, but have certainly removed a cunning foe.

Quest Rewards: +1 Willpower, +300,000 XP, -2 effective charisma*.

*Note: this effect does not reduce the charisma attribute, only how its effects are calculated.

Wow. That was quite the reward, and storms blow me down! MORE charisma issues!?

I appreciated the note that explained I wasn’t going to be further imbalanced, just more disliked, but I had gone from a very personable and friendly sailor to one of those characters in fables who were despised because they were foolish with their attribute distribution. I could work past people’s reactions with time, but I was always starting off on the wrong foot with them and they never had much incentive to spend time around me.

I swear, I was going to level up several times and dump everything into charisma to mitigate this nightmare!

The XP reward was staggering. It wasn’t an unheard of amount for a major quest completion, but it did seem ridiculous. I got a clue why it was so high from the single point I had gained in willpower.

Quest rewards would not deliberately imbalance you as a reward. As a punishment for failure, sure. If an attribute boost would imbalance you elsewhere, however, the points could be changed into something more fitting – XP being the ubiquitous answer. My highest attribute a few minutes ago was intelligence at 26. It had been the high point to contrast my charisma as low. I had gotten a single willpower attribute point to bring that up to 26, then whatever other willpower points I might have earned got converted into XP on top of what I would have earned for the quest. It didn’t tell me how many attribute points had been converted, but getting a 300,000 XP windfall dumped in my lap was an even greater amount than I’d gotten from my engagement on the Wind Runner, where I’d killed many high level opponents and completed quests to save the princess!

I wanted to use the points, but the crew had mustered their courage and now wasn’t the time. Billings was actually the first man on the quarterdeck – a surprise from him. He took in the scene, and I didn’t give him a chance to find any words.

“My name is Domenic Seaborn, former lieutenant of Davy Jones. As the ranking naval officer aboard this ship, I offer you and your crew a non-aggression pact.”

“You what?” he sputtered.

“I have killed the Captain, the second mate, and his men. I have fulfilled my purpose here. Rather than destroy this ship and the lives onboard, I offer you the chance to return her back to Antarus with all hands.”

“In exchange, we don’t attack you.”

“You do not attack me or my party,” I clarified. Seeing that he wasn’t reaching a decision and wanting this agreement done before some of the fighters stopped fingering their weapons around me in favor of going below to Gerald and Jorgagu, I sweetened the pot. “I will also assure the ships’ safety from any enemy ships so long as you are restraining yourselves.” I could make arrangements with any Madu ships we ran across like I’d made with the Justice.

Billings swallowed, his eyes going from me to the body of Cyrell Darius: Captain, former hero, and accomplished mage. If Lockwood had still been alive, he might have fought just because the second mate would. All alone, he capitulated … as he did naturally.

“Agreed. Now … now what?”

“Now you take command and turn this ship towards Antarus – I don’t think the crew would respond well to my orders even if I do have the best seamanship skills out of anyone here.”

I walked past him and the mob of men, grateful I didn’t have to spill their blood next.

In the hold below, a very agitated Gerald hunkered down with a very curious Jorgagu. The Tarish’s eyes zeroed in on me immediately.

“Dom! What the blazes is going on? An hour ago I had a knife in my chest, then Lockwood was dead and I listened to what you told me and came here but it sounded like there was a battle up top and even the orc’s guard left to go find out what was going on and I haven’t heard anything!”

“Slow down, friend. You’re going to want to take a seat …”

Gerald took a breath and found his composure. He was a rather consistent person, the fact that he was losing his cool spoke to how much stress he was feeling. I could understand, living as the one member of a different race on board for weeks, then waking up to choking on your own blood …

“So, Gerald,” I wiped my hands on my pants. I could look Billings in the eye and tell him how things were going to be with steel in my voice, but this was hard. I was being vulnerable with a friend. “Remember how my full name was Domenic back in the day?”

He squinted at me, then analyzed me again like I was tricking him and he had to double check. I didn’t have my Necklace of Persona on, nor did I try to hide my stats.

He gasped and went rigid. I expected that, but it still hurt.

“Yeah, so those things I’ve been dealing with, the things we’ve talked about …” The things you helped me work through ... “They were tied to some of the rumors you’ve heard. Now, as a friend, I’m going to ask that you please don’t freak out and that you give me a chance to explain.” Please don’t say anything that breaks the foundation of self-forgiveness you laid, Gerald.

He nodded, his hawk-like eyes more focused than they’d ever seemed before.

“Alright,” as an aside to Jorgagu, I said in mixed human/orcish, “Follow along as best you can.”

I laid everything out for Gerald. How my voyage on the Wind Runner had gone wrong, how I’d been captured, sacrificed, and saved via a deal with the devil of the sea. How I’d gotten the Death’s Consort and been pushed into villainy. I didn’t try to blame Jones for my mistakes or my lack of agency, Gerald had glimpsed my demons already. He deserved the full truth.

A guard popped in on us, saw the little huddle we had going on, and scurried topside again wide-eyed. A few minutes later he returned and quietly sat by the hatch, keeping an eye on us but remaining unobtrusive.

I finished my story with a more thorough retelling of the events this last evening, including my final interaction with my father. When I was done, quiet, and in need of a good drink to fix my parched throat, Gerald asked the question that always seemed to come: “What now?”

“Now, I go to rescue Hali. She’s on Antarus at the moment. I have a beacon that updates me with her location – I just need to get to her and rescue her.”

“And if she’s in a dungeon?”

“I’ll figure it out, but I don’t think that’s her fate. She was in danger of assassination from other nations; if she was taken captive it was because Antarus decided sacrificing her was the most politically expedient thing to do because she’d been fingered in embarrassing events.”

“So?”

“So, Antarus is an island nation. Whoever they hand her over to, I’ll intercept en route.”

Gerald shrugged. “Okay? Good for her? Good for you? But … what about me?”

“Gerald,” I said, leaning forward. “Come with me.”

He put his face in his hands.

“Listen to me, Gerald! I’m not asking you to swear as my crew – not unless I figure out how to un-curse those I take on. You have to realize that you are wasted here. Antarus doesn’t want you! They want to hate you! You’re going to wind up dead if you try to stick with this business.”

“I was born in the capital,” Gerald said quietly. “My parents loved this country …”

“I’m sorry Gerald, but once the Isa gets back they’re not going to trust you at all. You were my friend, and that’s reason enough to imprison you for life.” I swallowed. “Please don’t despise me for that.”

His shoulders slumped in resignation. “I truly have lost all hope of them accepting me. I suppose I should be asking you to let me escape with you rather than mope about circumstances, hmm?”

My eyes burned. “I am sorry, my friend. I swear that I will make it up to you.”

I turned to Jorgagu. “Did you follow all that?”

The orc regarded me critically, lifting his ponderous shoulders in a slow shrug. “I have heard of Seaborn,” he said in orcish. “Though the name was always linked to events on the other side of the world from Bandarn. You said … this leader of the ship was your father?” I nodded. “And you killed him?” I nodded again. His face twisted in sharp disapproval.

I’d discovered that orcs and goblins were just as prone to fighting and war as the stories said, but contrary to how they were portrayed in those stories they did not backstab their fathers for any reason. Parental guidance might actually have been as much of a factor in their warrior tendencies as their racial predisposition. Jorgagu had spoken of his own father with respect. It seemed humanity wasn’t the only culture that looked down on my title of Patricide.

“You are strong enough, you could escape on your own or maybe overcome the rest of the crew with enough preparation to make your own items.” I replied in his language, only misusing the word for ‘preparation’. “But you will be left at the place of your last escape – no way to return to your homeland.”

He bared his teeth – which was intimidating even if I understood it wasn’t a threat to me and more of an agreement with his circumstances. “You have an offer?”

“Escape with me.”

“What is your plan?” Jorgagu asked, about the same time Gerald interjected that orcish wasn’t among the languages he spoke.

I huffed. Why couldn’t Jorgagu have enchanted an item that translated things?

In simple terms, with clarifications for Jorgagu when he indicated he didn’t understand, I laid things out.

“My first objective is to rescue Hali from her captivity …”

“Why rescue?” Jorgagu interrupted.

I glared at him for not letting me even get a single sentence in but answered his question. “She is a friend in need of my help. Besides that, I feel I owe her a debt.”

The orc nodded. While I’d lost points with him for killing Darius, apparently squaring debts was a positive thing.

“Once I’ve rescued her, I need to …” Hmph. I’d realized the necessity of the next part of this plan, but still hadn’t fully reconciled myself to it. “I need to meet with a group of Madu in Nilfheim who might be able to help me learn how to un-curse my crew.”

“Why the Madu?” Gerald asked.

“A human administrator I knew told me that any human studying the kind of magic that could help me had been pulled inland, but there was a sect of Madu who could help.”

“And you trust him?”

“Yes. There’s a lot of backstory there and behind-the-scenes politics that even I don’t understand, but the Madu are enemies of the humans so he wouldn’t have anything to gain by sending me to them.”

Gerald shrugged. “I know it’s odd to hear coming from the Tarish, but be careful trusting those people.”

“Trust me, I’m having a hard time with the necessity myself.”

“Why?” Jorgagu said in human. He gestured at Gerald. “You – orcs fight with Tarish. Orcs fight with Madu. All against humans. Why you not trust Madu?”

“There’s always more going on than simply racial wars.” Gerald said. “I’ve been fighting with the humans this war. I’ve heard that it wasn’t more than a few decades ago orcs and Tarish were shedding each other’s blood in the northern reaches, am I wrong?”

Jorgagu muttered something that I didn’t quite catch, but didn’t sound like a disagreement.

“Add to that,” Gerald went on. “No one race is wholly unified in their efforts. Dom here – Domenic – is a human, and he’s shed more blood than … I’m sorry, Domenic. That was cruel of me.”

I shrugged. “It’s true, and you’re not wrong about seeing the players in this war as more than racial blocs. In any case, my plan is to learn from the Madu how to un-curse my crew. Then, I’m going to the Death’s Consort and fulfilling the promise I made to them … and dishing out some retribution where necessary.”

“This plan,” Jorgagu said. “Is good for you, but where do I get to Bandarn?”

“After I rescue Hali – or before, if they keep her locked up inland for a while – I will take you to the coast of Bandarn. I need a ship that I can commandeer and sail, and the ports around Antarus will supply it.”

“I will not become cursed for you,” Jorgagu said at the same time Gerald said “Why not the Isa?”

“You won’t be cursed and I’m not taking the Isa!” I took a breath. “People can sail with me without being cursed … you think the last few weeks haven’t proven that? You don’t need to accept anything from me, though I hope to convince you to help me or at least teach me some things.” The orc looked like his lips were sealed.

To Gerald, I said “I’m not taking the Isa because I don’t want to kill off the crew, and they will rebel if I try and turn them into my personal shuttle service.”

“So make them your crew, or just submerge the ship by another human vessel and let them swim to their allies.”

“They have to willing accept to be my crew, and I can’t just submerge any ship! I have to claim it!” Seeing Gerald’s mouth open I answered the question I knew was coming. “I can’t claim the ship because the Death’s Consort is still out there, and I can’t drop it. To claim a second ship I’d have to spend all the XP points I just got in quest rewards on the skill upgrade. Besides thinking that’s a waste of XP, a ship I claim gains effects based on my history with it. Do I want to find out what effects I get with the ship I killed my father on? No!”

I took a breath and Gerald raised his hands in surrender before laying a solid grip on my shoulder. “Hey man, we can talk more later. Sorry to push you, we just need to understand what the plan is.”

I nodded, appreciating my friend even as I realized that I couldn’t walk away from killing my father as unaffectedly as I could after killing another enemy. Things were eating at me, and I’d have to address them or else risk falling into the same self-destructive trap that had cost me the Death’s Consort and my father the Isa.

“So,” I continued. “I can Captain a ship on the surface and summon the crew we need, but I’ve got to find a ship besides the Isa to use. I can run you home, Jorgagu.”

“Payment?” he asked.

“Let’s say that I’ll do it right now, and we can discuss any payment after I’ve given up trying to recruit you.”

He struggled of the word ‘recruit’ for a moment, and then his face went through an amusing series of expressions.

“How long will it take us to get to Antarus?” Gerald asked.

“About two weeks, I’d say. Our first delivery was by Nilfheim, we’ve come further north and that took us past Antarus again. We’re almost in the Atlas Ocean, the waters here are getting colder even if the weather hasn’t shown it.”

Jorgagu said a word in orcish I didn’t know, and after a brief exchange I learned the word for ‘map’. He wanted to see on a chart where we were. Thinking of the ship’s charts probably destroyed in my father’s cabin, I pulled out a chart from my bag. It wasn’t of the area, but I turned it over and began sketching, my knowledge and seamanship skills supplementing my cartography skill.

“Here’s the coast of Bandarn, Antarus, the northern borders of Nilfheim … and we should be right about here, give or take a few miles. Heading back to Antarus now is like finishing the last side of a triangle.”

You have advanced to skill level 3 in Cartography.

I’d say my chart was accurate. I could really fall in love with the cartography skill, I just never seemed to have the time to explore …

“So close …” Jorgagu said, touching the coastline of Bandarn. Indeed we were close, closer to it than we were to Antarus. I expected him to ask to go there instead of the human nation, but he held his peace.

“So now we hope that the crew keeps their word until we get close enough to the land that we can steal a different ship?” Gerald summarized.

“Essentially, yes.”

“Great,” Gerald said, leaning back. “What could possibly go wrong with that plan?”