Chapter 13 - Chapter 13

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 13: "𝕷𝖚𝖓𝖆—𝕳𝖎𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖗𝖈𝖍𝖞"

All of this never made sense—

But now? It does.

Listening to him was the best choice I ever made. He's always right—especially when he talks in riddles and makes you figure the rest out yourself. I really should have used this method before.

Prodigies and their weakest links to their inner selves… that's what they become.

I'm done for now. Sealing my ability, my sight returns to its normal state, staring at the ship's wooden walls again—trapped inside them.

"I probably should lower my ability usage, or I'll start hallucinating again," I mutter to myself.

I dip the quill back into the ink pot and wrap up the parchments. That should be enough for today—perfection can wait until tomorrow. As I'm about to place the papers inside the scribe box, I flinch at a knock on my door, realizing I was still lost in thought. Sigh.

"Yes?" My voice escapes shakily from my throat.

"May I come in?" It's him.

I'm tempted to shut him out—but no. I know he won't stay long.

"Alright." I leave my work immediately, turning my full attention to him.

"You needed something, Captain?" I ask, clearing my throat.

"No need for etiquette in person, Luna," Xavier says, closing the door behind him. "And no—just here to see how your preparation's goin'."

He steps forward, arms crossed, scanning the messy surroundings.

"Did I startle you?" He offers me a soft expression—rare for him.

"No, I was just… engrossed in work," I say, gesturing to my desk. I shake my shoulders and give him a faint smile. I'm tired.

"Hmm. I see… Let's see what you've learnt." He walks across the room and takes a seat, draping one leg over the other.

"No." I mumble it almost desperately.

"C'mon, don't be such a slacker. I know you didn't write much." He crosses his arms again.

I exhale another weary sigh and pick up the parchment—the one where I've written an entire speech about the hierarchy of prodigies and their abilities.

"So… is it alright if I hesitate a little on the points I'm not certain about?" I glance up at him.

"No." He states it bluntly.

That scares me more.

"Alright…" I take a deep breath and start.

"The prodigies—and the thing I recently learned about them. They are gifted individuals that can be split into two tiers…" I pause, watching his face.

"Carry on. Don't stop."

"One are the Forcans—they possess elemental abilities only. The elements can be any of the seven, depending on the genes they inherited." I pause again.

"And the second ones are Eclipsed—they possess abilities to manipulate others' aspects… in fact, almost any aspect of reality, by way of their nervous systems."

He nods sternly. "Go into more depth on these two."

His tone makes me feel like I've already made a mistake he's not correcting. I let out a shaky breath. Why am I sweating so much?

"Eclipsed are mentally disciplined—they sharpen their brains in natural calculations, spiritually, emotionally, and physically. They also have alchemic understanding—"

"If I may correct you," he cuts in, gesturing with his hand. "We're talking about Cognates here, not Eclipsed—not yet. Those are their mastered variants."

I stop mid-sentence, gaping down at the parchment in my hands. How could I miss such a crucial point?

"Right… Eclipsed are masters of their abilities. Sorry." My grip on the paper tightens.

"Don't be sorry for your mistake. I'm repeating this for the third time." His expression hardens.

I pause.

"And Forcans?"

"Their appellation changes to Primals when they reach mastery."

"Add an example."

"Example… um… Felix?" I suggested.

"You're gonna talk about having a brother who's a Primal in your academic inquiry?"

That hit hard.

"Anyways… about the Eclipsed-tier ones—they're not psychics, they—"

He raised his hand to stop me.

"This one's important, so don't dodge it."

"Example?…" I was confused, glancing around the room—maybe I could use my ability to look through the surfaces and around the ship to find one?

No, no. He'll catch me.

"Don't even think about using your ability. The one interrogating you will surely be Eclipsed-tier—you won't stand a chance if they read your intentions."

I exhale slowly.

"Example can be… when you…" My voice drops lower.

"We'll discuss it later if you're stuttering. Back to some questions." His expression hardens. "What's a Triune?"

"All three tiers of ability in one…" My voice is barely audible now.

"Repeat the tiers."

I slowly count on my fingers.

"Primal tier… Cog—" I stop myself. No, not that.

"Eclipsed tier, and—" I look straight at him. Third one?

"And you were saying there are two tiers at the start." His frown deepens.

"That's what… I discovered. The rare ones."

"Discovering doesn't mean you misplace the rare and common tiers," he says, slightly angry. "The one you're forgetting is the rarest." He corrects.

"Ah… amm… I think—"

"Stop mumbling." His voice rises a little.

My heart rate spikes as he keeps that cold facade, glaring at me without blinking. This is getting difficult. Think, Luna. Think.

"The third one…"

"Louder!" he bellows.

My breath hitches at his sudden outburst. I'm about to set the paper aside to confront him—when the door shuts with a thud.

Felix enters, wearing the same stern look Xavier has. Why do they both look like they've quarreled? Or are about to? This place is about to blow. Lord have mercy.

"You shouldn't be talking to her like that," Felix says to Xavier, voice calm but edged with irritation.

"I'm not scolding her. Just checking limits," Xavier replies bluntly.

"On her?" Felix's voice rises slightly.

"If Luna isn't willing to give up on her dream, she should fight for it. Knowledge alone, without the capability of expressing it, is useless." He stands, uncrossing his arms, voice calmer now.

"What's up with you these days?!" Felix scolds lightly, trying to keep control. "You've been acting aloof—to the crew, to me, even to her now. Care to justify?"

"If you have an issue, you can talk," I say slowly, subtly.

He looks down, the frown still furrowing his brow—not because he has nothing to say, but because he knows it's better not to argue. He's always right, yet he still respects our decisions. He doesn't say anything for a moment. He doesn't need to. Felix and I both know that's how it works.

"I do have an issue."

"Don't tell me you—" Felix exhales sharply, glaring. "Luna, can you spare us a moment?"

"No. Let her stay," Xavier says, glancing at him.

"You went there… again?" I ask softly. "Didn't you?"

"Not by myself. I wasn't alone—but I can't seem to shake it off."

"Who— That recruited woman… I would—"

"Felix." He cuts him off. "Don't be ridiculous. That's not something I expect you to do."

The air thickens between the three of us as silence stretches—until Xavier breaks it.

"I'll make sure not to disturb either of you again, and I'll never visit the wreck, either."

"I know you keep your word, but you don't have to this time," I say, fumbling with the edge of the paper in my hands. "It's a part of you, and it's completely fine if you can't get it out of your head."

"It shouldn't be—because that past interferes with the present I've reached now. The bond I share with you two… it's worth everything." He places his hand on his chest.

We do the same, in unison.

"We are the Crimson Wraith—all united, as ever and as we will be."

"Keep up with your preparation. Fixing some of your mistakes will improve it," Xavier says, giving me a nod.

I smile brightly at both of them. He pats Felix's back and leaves the room, closing the door with a soft click.

"Sometimes his decisions feel morally gray," I say once we're alone, trying to suppress the curve of my lips.

Felix snaps his head at me comically, and we both start laughing. He yanks me closer into a headlock, ruffling my hair roughly.

"Oye!" I giggle loudly at his mischief, trying to wriggle free.

"Rascal." He finally lets me go, grinning at the disheveled mess he's made of my hair.

"Best of luck. I know you'll ace it," he cheers before heading for the exit.

I grin lightly in return.

As soon as the door closes, leaving me in deafening silence, I turn back to my parchment. Grabbing my quill, I quickly correct the mistakes, my hand moving swiftly across the paper.

A sigh escapes my lips as I finish.

"Now… about the third tier," I muse, mumbling slowly, stroking my chin.

.

As the silence sinks deeper into the dead of night, I'm probably the only one awake—along with the boatswains. I shake my head. I'm getting distracted again.

Alright… A herb and the Icy Lotus. That should do it.

I stare down at the manual in my hands, still reading its contents for the fifty-sixth time. Did I really do it right?

Mixing the elixir in the flask with my free hand, I don't realize it's already changed color—and is now about to spill.

"Oh, no." I set it swiftly on the brewing stand, nearly spilling a few drops in the process. I sprint to grab a cloth and return to cover the nozzle—but it's already fizzled, the mixture entirely changing color.

"Oh…" It's ready.

I gape at its distinctive hue before slowly stepping forward and capping it. Raising it in my hands, I stand before the window. The crescent moonlight pries in, casting a silver ray across the flask, illuminating the fluid's color from within. The glass clinks as I flick it lightly.

"Perfect."

.

Glancing around, I step onto the dock beneath the raven sky, the pier stretching further and further ahead. Crewmates work in the distance, shifting crates in and out of the ship's storage room, while others walk here and there holding lanterns. It's much quieter than during the day—they act more like raiders than traders.

The wind breezes hollow around us, flicking the flames inside the lanterns, along with those hanging on the fence. The chain clanks faintly, as does the wood beneath my steps while I walk with the flask hanging from my waist belt.

A sigh escapes my lips.

"Now… who should I try this on?" I peek down at the flask.

"Oh—" My gaze falls on a tall woman standing beside the crates at the edge of the pier. It seems the crewmates are taking orders from her, given the way she commands.

My interest is piqued. Let's have a chat, then.

The moment I turn toward her, she catches me looking. I smile awkwardly; she returns the same reaction. As she's about to look away, I instinctively wave at her. She glances back, her eyes widening slightly, and waves in return—more sheepishly this time. I point at my flask, then at her, asking if it's fine to bring it over. She mistakes my gesture, thinking I'm offering to give her the flask. I shake my head.

Alright, this is getting awkward."Hehe…" A sheepish chuckle escapes me.

After a few more silent gestures, her face scrunches in actual confusion. I hang my head—I don't even know what she's saying, either.

"Stop reacting and say something," I call out, half laughing, half pouting.

"Alright, I'll stop," she calls back, wearing the same sheepish expression.

She waves me over. My eyes widen slightly before I walk toward her.

"Hi," I say quietly, stepping beside her.

She nods, placing a hand on her chest in greeting. "You're one of the crewmates?"

"Not a crewmate—I'm the Elixirist of the Wraith, and third in place after the Captain," I reply proudly, mimicking her gesture.

Her eyes widen slightly, intrigued. "That's impressive… say—" she nods toward the flask, "You were testing something?"

"Oh, yup. I'm actually going to the Azure Spire—the Hall of Sages—to prepare for deeper studies as a scholar. For the exam, I'm facing some problems. I need help finding a creature—maybe a mosquito, or a frog—anything would work."

"Entrance exams, eh?" She strokes her chin, setting the scroll aside on the map laid over the crates. "They require knowledge of the Hierarchy of Abilities. I know of it, though I doubt I know as much as you."

"Oh, well… I'm currently missing the third tier of prodigies. I've heard it's the rarest one." I click my tongue.

"Oh, you mean the Carnal tier," she says, snapping her fingers toward me. "Their formative state is called Corporeals."

I gape at her—it's so easy for her. "What tier are you on, if I may ask?" I lean in closer.

"None," she says with a soft chuckle.

"Mhmm…" I nod. She's mundane, then—wait… a mundane can't be that smart. I frown slightly, turning my face just enough not to seem rude or suspicious.

"Have you played chess?" she asks, glancing at the folded wooden chessboard resting on the crate.

"Nah. I want to, though."

"What's that supposed to do with this—if you're comparing?" I quirk an eyebrow softly.

"Hmm, the essential thing for you to remember is the tiers, right?" she adds, picking it up, opening and arranging its pieces into place. "So, here's your cue—take the hierarchy as if it's part of the game."

"Chess. Here they have six pieces. Take the pawn, for example—it's a mundane in this world. Weak, thrown to the front to survive, no abilities at all, only stumbling forward." She raises the pawn with her finger, moving it two blocks from its territory.

I detach the flask from my belt and place it on the table, my focus still on her explanation. Leaning against the crate, I can faintly hear the crew working somewhere far off.

"The Knights, which can be replaced as the Arcanists." She glances up at me.

"Yes—the ones who practice abilities rather than being natural-borns with 'em."

She nods. "They're unconventional. Like a knight, they move differently from everyone else and can jump over others." She raises the knight piece, moving it forward in an L-shaped route.

"Same for the Arcanists—while not as strong as natural-borns, they can sometimes surprise and change the game."

I tilt my head, smiling with an amused frown as I lean back against the crate.

"Then the Bishops. They don't move unless the pawn is out of the way, but they're specialized in one direction—diagonally—and can be tricky to coordinate."

"Ah! Bishops can be replaced by the Hybrids, right? Because they're also crossovers."

I pull out the parchment from earlier and roll it down on the crate beside the chessboard, holding its edge. My index finger traces the lines written. "Look—I wrote it here."

"Solos— they aren't naturally born unless their parents are a crossover between the Tier of Eclipsed and one tier of Primals. But if one parent is Carnal tier, then they're bound to be Duals. And in the most epic cases—Triunes."

"Like that member of the Ashens… I forgot his name… Amm… Kade, yeah. He's a Hybrid tier—a Dual, actually. Can navigate the air his way, along with perfectionism at whatever he does."

"Exactly." She clicks her tongue. "He does have expert skills in both archery and millinery."

Does she know him? Anyway, I release a soft exhale and let her continue.

After advancing another pawn, she takes out the bishop, moving it three blocks forward. Then she holds up the castle piece, raising it toward me. "Now, about this one—"

I take it from her hand. "The castle piece is…"

"It's a rook," she corrects.

"Ahmm…" I seal my lips together in concentration. "The rook."

"This must be… Carnal," I add. "Though the Captain told me Corporeals can stand against the Eclipsed once they master their abilities. I seemed to forget their existence—let alone remember that fact." I smile faintly.

"Then you also might know who the Eclipsed are in chess," she gestured.

"The queen," I pointed out.

"Exactly," she added. "The queen is the strongest piece in chess—so are the Eclipsed."

"But how do Carnals stand against them?"

"Only if the rook—" she picked up the queen and the rook, advancing them straight toward each other "—confronts the queen diligently."

"The pawns and knights can too, can't they?"

"Only if they trap the queen, which requires strategy. But rooks directly attack them."

"The last one—" she picked it up "—is the king, which are to be—"

"Primals," I completed.

"Touché." She snapped her fingers.

"Kings are the center of the game—everything revolves around protecting or defeating them. Same with Primals: they're your highest natural-born power tier, so they fit as the ultimate 'win condition' piece." I gestured at the piece in her hands.

"You know too much about it. Are you a scholar too?" I leaned forward, almost grinning with enthusiasm.

"Oh, no, not at all. It's just… some rough experience, you could say. I'm not well educated." She leaned back slightly. "Too? What do you mean, there are more?"

"Yes—Captain Xavier Daix. He's a scholar of the Hall of Sages, practically one of the seniors of the Azure Spire." I nodded enthusiastically. "Well… he left to explore the studies alone. Nor was he an Archivist, back a year ago."

Her eyes widened. She froze for a moment.

"What the—" she muttered, almost choking.

I laughed. "Surprising, right? But who can judge his choice of ruling the Wraith instead." I sighed. "I don't know if I'll ever be like him, but I'll do my best—even if out of desperation."

She smiled faintly. "You'll ace it, don't worry."

"A great thanks to you for explaining all this to me—it really helped." I hopped closer to her, nearly making her stumble back. "Oh, I almost forgot my flask. Well… I'll try it later then."

It's useless now. Maybe someday I'll experiment with it. Oh—I forgot…

"May I know your name?"

"Oh, what a gate-crasher person I am." She adds, dramatically putting a hand on her forehead. "I'm the new member of the Ashens. Lee's my name."

"Oh my lord, you're the Valiant of the Trials!"

"What of Trials?" Her face scrunched in confusion.

"You don't know? Everyone's been talking about the Valiant who helped the Ashens triumph over the Crimson Reapers, beat Ivor, and freed Orlendar from their submission," I said. "It's you I've been talking to all this time."

"Uh, no, actually. The trial was a draw. And as for the war—The Reapers faced Ivor's executioner themselves. It wasn't just me," she replied. "And you must be Luna Eccentro… right?"

"Yes!" I grin.

"Heard from Felix about you. I got assigned by him here."

"Oh." My face returns to normal. "Why would he assign a woman here at night alone?"

"Oh, don't worry. I took this shift myself, and I'm much more capable of handling… physical encounters, you could say." She gives me a sideways smirk.

"Sure," I laugh. "Miraculously, looks like we have a lot more in common than I thought."

We stand beside the crates at the embankment of the dock. The slap of water runs here and there with the wind. Finally focusing on the surroundings that had blurred for a while during our chatter, I smile to myself. It's peaceful… maybe sometimes it's worth thinking about the stresses, or the good times in life.

"Everything's fine so far. One hundred thirty-six crates have been shifted — a hundred and a half more to go," she says, looking at the crew working.

"This is something," I say, amused. "Clay to build households. How fortunate of them."

She smirks softly, lowering the clipboard in her hands.

"You know—"

"Lady Eccentro! Lady Eccentro!"

Both of us turn at the voice. One of our crewmates comes sprinting toward us, slightly tense.

"What's wrong, Alfa?" I frown at him.

"There's a problem, Lady…"

"...Lee," she says, placing the clipboard aside on the crate.

"Mr. Hathquill has arrived back from his work, and Ivor's new executioner is here. They don't seem to be in a good mood for hospitality," he adds, exhaling. "You've been called."

"I can't leave my—"

"Don't worry about it," I cut in.

"No, Luna—"

"Just go. Ivorians aren't known for being peaceful guests," I add, patting her elbow. "You should go. I'll handle this here."

She gives me a stern nod before making her way out of the dock, giving me one last glance.

I hope everything's fine. First Eva, and now her sister… they'll never sit back.

I exhale sharply before turning to the crates, scanning the written information and setting the next order out.