Excerpt from my fantasy book

Jón wasn’t a hard man to find. Once Neve managed to track him down in the lower decks, rewrapping his bandaged hands, she explained the purpose of her finding him. Jón, agreeing at the sound of free ale, headed to the inner city with Neve soon after.

The sun was creeping towards the horizon, giving the pair a fair bit of time before they were to meet at the tavern.

They walked off the ship, the various smells of freshly cooked meals drew them closer and closer to the main street. Walking to the front of the docks, large crowds of people covered the entirety of the street, some pursuing the wares of the merchants at their stalls as others were sitting at tables, eating a beautiful smelling meal.

As Neve and Jón entered the city proper, they had to observe the citizen’s clothing much closer. They were thin, linen-like material as it wrapped around their body, the white fabrics drawing in the eye. Neve had never seen anything like it.

Not only was their clothing different, their city seemed completely different than Boria. The streets were made of stone, for the most part, making their ground hard as they walked across it. The buildings were also made of a rough-looking material, almost matching the one on the ground, it’s dark colors glittering in the harsh afternoon sun. To contrast the dark tones of the material, color tapestries hung from the top of the merchant’s booths and provided a place of cover from the heat. The tapestries held beautiful designs and some depicted figures of importance with brilliant blues and purples.

Neve pulled back, almost walking straight into a group of people, who quickly rushed past her with a glare. 

“This place is…” Neve trailed off, her attention being called in every direction as she wanted to take in everything this place was offering her.

“Hectic.”

“That it is. There is so many people!” Neve’s jaw was on the floor, feeling awestruck from the completely new environment she had found herself in.

Jón watched silently, a small smile on his face as she looked like a kid tasting sweets for the first time. There was a childlike wonder in discovering a completely new place, a sense of adventure that one felt in a place like this. Jón could almost see himself, only a few years prior, feeling the same exact way.

“Wait, what is that?” Neve pointed to structure that stood much taller than the rest, noticeable from miles away as it appeared to be looking directly at the two. Neve tilted her head to the side, confusion visible on her features as she stared in silent amazement.

He followed her finger, seeing the massive stone statue as it pointed it’s sword in their direction. 

“That would be the late King Vasilios, watcher of Gilarea.” Jón gestured to it, starting to walk in that direction as Neve followed close behind him.

Pushing past numerous people, Neve and Jón walked closer to the enormous statue, moving past merchant’s stalls and to a circular section dedicated to the statue. The area around the statue encompassed the very center of the busy market. It was untouched by the stone streets and modern developments in the surrounding area. There were benches that circled the statue, placed upon grass – as was the statue – as small tufts of roses and different flowers grew around the base of the statue. Around the statue was a small fountain, pouring water beneath the late king’s feet as the water glimmered a brilliant blue.

Neve looked up at the statue, scrutinizing every detail of the larger-than-life man that was carved, particularly, the sword that it pointed. It pointed directly at the docks, pointing the horizon on the Arcadian Ocean. The expression of the late king was stern, the statue capturing the demeanor of the deceased in a way that still reflected to the sightseers. Neve could feel his presence just by looking upon the statue, the rigid form and stance only made him appear more domineering and powerful.

The two walked onto the grass, Jón finding a seat on an empty bench as Neve walked closer, her head craning down as she looked at the plate that rested at the base of the statue. It echoed what Jón had said moments before, reading: 

King Kostas Vasilios – Our Beloved Watcher of Gilarea. May he rest.

She peered over the edge, into the water of the fountain, and saw a handful of coins thrown in. The coins, though obscured from the water, still clearly had the face on them. They were stamped with a side profile on one side as the other side had an intricate, geometric design.

Neve turned away from the fountain, looking over to Jón, who seemed to be basking in the sunlight as he closed his eyes. Her eyes landed on the bandages that fully envoloped his hands as there was the faintest bit of red coming from beneath the wrappings.

A sigh escaped her lips, a pang of guilt hitting her chest as she sat beside him, causing him to open his eyes.

“Does it hurt?” She asked, her eyes not leaving his hands as he dropped his gaze to look at them as well.

He rubbed his right palm, “it’s healing.”

Neve pulled her eyes from his hand to his eyes, resolve evident as that wasn’t the answer she wanted.

“But does it still hurt?”

Jón stopped rubbing his palm, closing his fist as he exhaled softly. As well as she did to hide it, he could tell that the incident had been bothering her. Something changed in the time she was recovering alone.

“Aye, it does. Never used that much of my affinity at once, or that long for that matter.” Jón’s tone gentle, making light of the situation once seeing Neve’s reaction to his initial answer. His response was genuine, or genuine enough to fool Neve as she leaned back with a nod.

Neve was silent for a moment, her arms crossing over her chest as she looked deep in thought. She bit the inside of her cheek, her gaze dropping to the flowers as she observed them.

She wanted to know, know the reason the Vanian’s picked Jón and Magnús. The soldier she was watching had been specifically looking for him by name, asking each person on the crew until he came to Jón. What had he done?

“What did you do?”

Jón turned to look at her, seeing that she was avoiding his eyes by looking at the flowers. Her expression was neutral, a shaky breath leaving her lips as Jón looked down at the roses as well.

“What do you mean?”

“Why were Vanian soldiers looking for you?”

“It’s a…” He trailed off, shifting in his seat, “a long story.”

Neve looked up at the sky, “we still have a few hours until we need to be at the tavern.”

Jón swallowed loudly, looking around to see if anybody was listening in on their conversation. Once he didn’t find anybody, he started.

“I told you of how I left Skoro years ago, yeah?”

Neve nodded.

“Well, I jumped on the first boat I could find in the dock. Luckily for me, it wasn’t a navy boat. It was a bit ago, so the name of the boat escapes me, but I spent a few months with them, pirating, looting, and raiding as we pleased.

“It wasn’t long before we made our way to Vania. Tales of untouched treasure and money laid within the newly conquered country, and of course, they had reached our ears. We set out to find the source of these rumors, to find the supposed untouched treasure. We weren’t in need of this money, but the sound of an early end to a pirating career that didn’t end with death was certainly appealing.” His voice was lowered, his tone almost sounding reminiscent.

Without even looking at him, Neve could see a bit of solemnness crest his features. He spoke of these events with hesitancy, an uneasy breath leaving him as he continued.

Neve allowed him to continue, remaining silent.

“We travelled to Vania on this whim and found ourselves a whole lot of nothing. The rumor was started to lure us to Vania and it had worked. We found ourselves in a trap as we had managed to royally piss off the one and only,” Jón pointed to the statue, “in the trap they had set for us, they intended to kill all of us for plundering their ships for months. I managed to escape the makeshift prison they made for us and found Magnús along the way. We joined forces and got the hell out of there.”

“Makeshift prison? Was this in the empire?”

Jón shook his head, “this part of the empire was still new, it had just finished being ravaged by Vasilios so there were no strongholds yet. We were placed somewhere within the Horizon’s Helm, between the snowy mountains in the west. It was a… terrible time for me and Magnús, we were struggling to survive, so far from any civilization and dodging headhunters.”

“How did the two of you make it?”

“We had to keep running. Because the land was still unsullied, there was plenty game to eat and enough empty plains for us to camp peacefully. We kept moving east, trying to find our way back to the shore to leave the empire and we found a dock, an unofficial one right here.

“Gilarea has always been a bit distant from the main structure of the empire, a bit of a haven for miscreants and pirates because the military decided it wasn’t worth it to expunge us, I guess.”

That piqued Neve’s interest. That matter only is probably the reason he came back here, considering that they were still on the run. It seems like despite the old king being dead, the anger for pirating is still there, but why was Gilarea different? Was it because it was newly conquered? Or was that something the military was actively choosing to do?

A great question for a colonel.

“Then how did you meet Calista?”

Jón let out a chuckle at the question, “we’re getting there. Calista isn’t the most trusting of people, to say the least, and that didn’t stop when it came to me and Magnús. We planned on jumping on the first ship we saw and hiding until we reached the land, but being stowaways wasn’t meant for us because she caught us. As we were slipping on the ship, we immediately get stopped by her, her sword on my throat as she asks us who we were and what we were doing on her ship.”

Neve’s eyebrows shot up, “she didn’t.”

“She did. Almost sliced my throat because I wanted to be a smart ass and try to avoid the question.”

“Well, I could see that.”

He rolled his eyes, “oh, whatever. She didn’t, thankfully, after we explained the predicament we were in but she was reluctant to keep us aboard and bring her more trouble. Magnús, Ancients bless him, managed to sweet talk her into letting us stay until her next stop that wasn’t anywhere near the empire. She acquiesced, letting us earn our keep on the Storm and I like to think we charmed her into keeping us on her crew, but Magnús disagrees.”

Neve laughed, “you must be something else if you could charm Calista, of all people.”

Jón grinned at the comment, puffing his chest out as he crossed his arms.

“That is quite the tale, though. It is unbelievable that I am here with a scourge of the Arcadian Ocean, pirating and looting to no end.” Neve said with a grin.

“Scourge, eh? That’s a title I could get used to.”

“Don’t let it get to your head, alright? You’re ego’s big enough as it is.”

“I think I’m going to make Stefán call me that – The Scourge of the Arcadian Ocean has a really nice ring to it.”

Neve shook her head, “Ancients help me.”

“So, enough about me. You never did tell me why we are going to the Sea’s Embrace tonight.”

She paused, hesitant to tell him. He had explained himself and revealed himself fully to her so it seemed wrong to turn him away now. Neve exhaled outwardly before speaking.

“I want insurance. I may be walking into a trap today and I want to make sure that I have people to back me up if worse comes to worse.”

Jón looked a bit taken back, “you think it’ll come to blows tonight?”

“I’m hoping that it won’t, but it doesn’t hurt to be ready.”

“Well, Neve, if there is one thing to describe you, it would be interesting. Let’s hope we don’t run into any trouble tonight, yeah?”