Advent of Eternity - Chapter 136 (Patreon)

Cyll wedged Lassie between the planks of the galleon and leaned on it, watching Maya’s fight with the Scion. Sailors littered the deck around him. Several had large bolts protruding from their bodies where Stix had shot them as the Withered Rose had passed by the galleon for the second time. Cyll had killed the last of them several seconds ago, but interfering in Maya’s fight would only serve to hurt her.

After the training they’d done on the Withered Rose over the past few days, Cyll was confident that Maya had the ability to handle herself against a Scion. She was already more skilled than he was with a sword – which wasn’t saying much – but her confidence had been shattered ever since she’d lost her arm.

Far more than any training, Maya needed to get the faith in her abilities back and, after Cyll’s initial fight with the Scion, he was confident that Maya could handle him. The man had some power, but Maya was stronger.

He sat by the mast, watching the two of them trade blows. It was far from elegant. Both of them were on their last legs and barely still able to stand. The next move would end things one way or another.

Cyll drummed his fingers on Lassie’s hilt, his eyes fixed on them. Maya would win. He was confident in that. Well, mostly confident. On the off chance she stumbled – well, Cyll was in sword-throwing range. The Scion wouldn’t have a chance to finish her off. Cyll was so focused on their fight that he nearly missed the tiny flicker of movement from behind him, by the stairs that led below deck.

Nearly.

A man rose from the darkness, pulling back on his bow and taking aim at Maya’s exposed back in a fluid motion. Cyll lurched into motion, but he was nowhere near close enough to the man to kill him before the arrow leapt from the bow.

Years of experience told Cyll that it would fly true, and Maya didn’t have the time or energy to respond appropriately to the attack. Cyll threw himself forward, launching himself up the side of the ship’s cabin and into the arrow’s path.

He extended his hand, trying to grab the bolt. It slipped through his fingers, the feathers tickling slightly as they passed his palm. The arrowhead slammed clean into his heart, piercing through it.

Cyll dropped to the ground, snarling in pain as his feet hit the deck. The bowman’s eyes widened in shock at the impressive block, but he was well trained. His hands shot to the quiver at his back to draw another arrow, his eyes turning back to Maya. Cyll’s foot hit the deck with a thunderous crack and he charged forward, ripping the arrow from his chest.

The bowman cried out in fear, tripping over his own feet and falling back into the decks below. Cyll dove into the darkness after him. The archer scrambled to his feet and Cyll crashed into the wood, rolling to his feet with a snarl.

“How can you move! It went into your heart. You should be dead,” the bowman stammered, tripping over a box as he tried to string another arrow. He went down with a crash, but he managed to keep a hold of his bow and arrow. Hands trembling, he pushed himself back along the deck with his feet and raised his bow toward Cyll.

An arrow twanged and Cyll’s head snapped back as it bit home in his right eye. Cyll continued his advance toward the man, baring his teeth in a gruesome smile as he reached up and pulled the arrow free with a pop. He tossed it to the deck.

“You’re the only one that saw,” Cyll said, his voice not much louder than a whisper. “Everyone else was distracted. You know what that means?”

He didn’t give the archer a chance to answer. Cyll knocked the bow from the archer’s hand and grabbed him by the neck, lifting the terrified archer into the air. He reared back and slammed the man headfirst into the hull of the ship. The archer’s head let out a loud crunch and his body went limp.

“It means there aren’t any witnesses, so it never happened,” Cyll told the man’s corpse. He glanced at his shirt, which now had a particularly conspicuous hole around his heart. Cyll grimaced and pulled it off, tossing it to the ground before turning and heading back to the top deck.

Cyll emerged into the daylight just in time to see the Scion pitch over the railing above the cabin. The man’s blue robes fluttered as he plummeted, crashing to the deck just in front of him. His eyes were glassy, and blood was quickly spreading across his chest from a stab wound straight through his heart.

“Ah. You got him,” Cyll said cheerfully, raising a hand to block out the sun as he looked up at Maya and gave her a thumbs-up. “Good job.”

Maya staggered over to the railing, breathing heavily. She leaned on it, sliding her sword back into its sheath with a groan. “Screw you. You could have helped me, you know.”

Cyll gave her a wide grin. “What can I say? I’ve got a cabin girl to take care of the menial work for me. No need to get my hands dirty. If you had another hand to work with, I’d get you a mop.”

Maya rolled her eyes. “Just get the Boon, would you? I think I saw his throat glowing, so it’s probably in there.”

“Sure thing.” Cyll paced over to where he’d left Lassie jutting out of the deck and drew the sword free. He approached the Scion and plunged the blade down. Blood splattered across the wood and Cyll levered a Boon free from the dead Scion. He knelt, wiping it off on the blue robes before tucking it into a pocket in his pants. “Got it. You didn’t do half bad. Clean kill.”

“It would have been a lot easier if you actually did anything to help me. Some crewmate you are.”

“I didn’t see Knell or Stix helping either,” Cyll pointed out, crossing his arms.

“They’re not here.”

“Oh?” Cyll glanced over Maya’s shoulder.

She turned, pausing in surprise as she realized that the Withered Rose had pulled up alongside the galleon. Coal sat on the galleon’s railing, his large red eyes peering intently down at the dead Scion. Knell and Stix both stood at the back of the ship, looking up at them. Stix had only just started to lower her bow, and Knell’s eyes were as sharp as ever.

“When did they get so close?” Maya asked.

“A few seconds ago,” Cyll replied. “But I know Stix was in range to use that bow of hers the whole time. The Scion was dead ever since he stepped out into open air, but there was no need for us to interfere in your fight. You had things under control.”

“I suppose I did.”

“So, did you happen to get any stronger?” Cyll asked as he sheathed Lassie. “Or are you still pathless?”

Maya pursed her lips. “I’m honestly not sure. I think I felt something happen during the fighting, but I’m not seeing any information about a path when I try to check. I’m pretty sure everything is still broken.”

“Eh, you did more than well enough with that sword. You’ll deal. I don’t have a path either and look at how I turned out. All the ladies love me. Some men too, actually. I’m pretty sure a few of these sailors fell in love before I ran them through. Pity.”

Maya looked at him out of the corner of her eyes. Then, to Cyll’s surprise, she grinned. “Well, at least I have something to look forward to.”

There was a soft thud from the edge of the galleon. Stix pulled herself over the edge, landing smoothly on her feet. She brushed her hands off and glanced around the gruesome scene around them.

Coal fluttered his wings and flew over to land on Stix’s shoulder.

“I heard that, Maya. Be careful. Agreeing with Cyll could be signs of a concussion. Good fight, though. Knell and I were watching.”

“Thanks,” Maya said wearily. “Do we have any idea who these idiots were?”

“Not yet,” Cyll replied. “I guess we should look through their crap to see if we can figure that out. Is Knell going to get on board?”

Stix shook her head. “No. He’s staying on the Withered Rose with Maud. Getting him onto the galleon would be a bit of a pain, and I think he overexerted himself a little blocking all those cannonballs. He’s resting right now.”

“You good to investigate?” Cyll asked Maya.

Maya grimaced. “Maybe in a few minutes. I’m exhausted.”

“It’s fine. Stay up here,” Stix said, walking over to join Cyll. “We’ll look around. I doubt anyone is still left, but we can handle them if they are. Just rest.”

Maya looked like she wanted to protest, but the offer was too tempting to pass up. She gave them an appreciative nod and slumped down to the deck, letting out a relieved sigh as she let her muscles relax.

Cyll took the lead, heading back down into the lower decks with Cyll behind him, her hand crossbow readied before her. The gentle creak of the ship as ocean waves lapped against its hull was all that greeted them as they pressed deeper, checking every corner and barrel for signs of anything or anyone.

“Not much here,” Cyll muttered, popping the top of a crate off and peering inside it. “Just a bunch of crappy weapons and clothes.”

“I don’t hear any people either,” Stix said. “They weren’t too strong, so I doubt they’d be that great at hiding. Good experience, though.”

They swept through the remainder of the deck, then headed down to the lowest floor. Like the previous one, it was empty aside from its cargo. All of the sailors had fallen in the fight.

Cyll jabbed Lassie into a crate and levered its top off. It was stuffed full of jerky and other food supplies. A grin stretched across his face.

“That’s what I’m talking about. Help me check all this crap, Stix.”

Stix tucked her crossbow away and pulled out a small knife. The two of them went around, examining the contents of all the ship’s cargo. Whenever they ran across something that might have been useful, they pushed it over to a growing pile at the base of the stairs.

“Hey, Cyll?” Stix asked.

“What? See some interesting loot?” Cyll stepped away from a crate full of old books and turned toward Stix.

“No. I saw what happened, though.”

Cyll’s eyes narrowed. “I have no idea what you mean.”

Stix shifted her stance and reached into the pouch at her waist. She pulled out a bundled up shirt and tossed it to Cyll, who caught it with a surprised blink.

“I don’t think Knell saw,” Stix said. “He was focused on Maya. I was going to shoot the archer, but the mast got in the way and I didn’t get a chance.”

Cyll looked down at the shirt in his hands. “And? I took care of him.”

“I saw his arrow hit your heart,” Stix said, closing her bag back up. “That means there’s a hole in your old shirt, isn’t there?”

“Don’t make me put more holes in your socks. I’ll do it.”

“God, you’re insufferable,” Stix said, but there was no anger in her voice. “Just… put the shirt on, Cyll. I’m not telling Knell. I know how to mend shirts. I’ll patch your old one up when I get a chance, okay?”

Cyll blinked. He slowly pulled the shirt on. “Oh. Thanks.”

“Hearing that from you sounds weird,” Stix said, shaking her head and wedged her knife into a nearby crate, starting to work to lever it open. “You still took an arrow to the heart, though.”

Cyll grunted. “It wasn’t anything that important. Don’t blow it out of proportion.”

Stix glanced at him, then turned her attention back to the crate and leaned down on her knife. A nail popped free and the top of the crate snapped open. She shoved it out of the way and it hit the deck with a loud thud. Glowing blue light slipped free of the crate, illuminating her face. Cyll strode over and peered inside, his hand on Lassie’s hilt. A dozen glowing blue crystals rested within it, identical to the ones they’d found on the bandits in Silver Ridge.

“Well, shit,” Cyll said, releasing his sword. “I think this might raise more questions than it answers. We better go find the Cap.”