It came as a complete shock.
Drifter and his companions - Azure Heart of the Sunrise, Akira Silverwing, Naar Kalaman, and Raging Snowstorm were all stunned as mysterious forces suddenly cast a hideous figure on the ground beside them. The figure lay unconscious, with grotesque scars and wounds that seem to have tattooed every single inch of its body. It almost felt as if something undead had suddenly fallen from nowhere!
"What is that poor gruesome being?" Drifter asked, not making a move to touch the body, lest it suddenly spring alive and attack. "It appears to have been eaten away by something vile..."
"THAT is Knife of the Ocean, carpenter boy!" Akira Silverwing cried angrily at him. "I recognize him from what that infernal guard had done with him!"
Drifter's insides lurched. This poorly mutilated being is KNIFE OF THE OCEAN?!
"It... it can't be!" Drifter cried. "How can this happen?!"
"I told you already, carpenter boy, he got discovered by the keen senses of that fly-swarmed guard!" Akira cried again. "I have no idea why he suddenly turned up here but at least we got him back now. Naar, what are we supposed to do?"
"We do what we must, Akira." Naar Kalaman said, his caste mark blazing in response. "We will have to go by the Eclipse's authority over these beings."
The Solars journeyed inside the city by means of Naar Kalaman's Anima influence, and after some much-needed bargaining and dealing with the heads of the settlement they were able to acquire the stolen items from Knife of the Ocean's inventory and also the poor mortal girl that Fak'Haru had asked them to collect.
As they journeyed out of the city, thoughts ran across Drifter's mind, seeing how Knife of the Ocean now looked like. Azure Heart of the Sunrise had assured him that the Night Caste pirate is still very much alive, sensing the healing charms in effect already, but the degree of scarring he has received was already beyond their comprehension and capability. Only well-trained Twilights of the Unconquered Sun could possibly restore his complete health without flaw.
And for once, he blamed himself for being so useless.
Deny it as he might, for most of the time he had not been much use in their conquests. Sure, he is an adept fighter when needed and a specialist in Magitech vessels and ships, but his specializations as a Twilight have not yet reached its fullest potential, thus still sealing certain arts and skills that he is still unable to attain. And as they walked out of the gates, pondering about the locations of the three sirens of the Storm Mother's errand, Drifter resolved to a decision: He will prove himself a worthy Twilight of their band.
As he stared at Knife of the Ocean's mutilated face, now half-carried by Raging Snowstorm out of the city, he came to his first resolve. Thoughts entered his mind like encouraging whispers of an intricately forged mask, wrought out of iron yet given enforcements by Orichalcum. A visage of gray steel to temporarily mask the hideous face until such time that he or Naar Kalaman could figure a way to reverse the befoulment the pirate has received. Armor will not be a problem, for he always comes equipped in combat, thus concealing much of the hideous work. For him the face mattered, for it is one's mirror to other people - an expression of their inner soul.
By the time the Unconquered Sun completely vanished from the horizon, the mask's final design had already been indelibly etched in his mind. All it needs now is to put it on paper - and to add a spice of magitech to it.
Drifter and his companions - Azure Heart of the Sunrise, Akira Silverwing, Naar Kalaman, and Raging Snowstorm were all stunned as mysterious forces suddenly cast a hideous figure on the ground beside them. The figure lay unconscious, with grotesque scars and wounds that seem to have tattooed every single inch of its body. It almost felt as if something undead had suddenly fallen from nowhere!
"What is that poor gruesome being?" Drifter asked, not making a move to touch the body, lest it suddenly spring alive and attack. "It appears to have been eaten away by something vile..."
"THAT is Knife of the Ocean, carpenter boy!" Akira Silverwing cried angrily at him. "I recognize him from what that infernal guard had done with him!"
Drifter's insides lurched. This poorly mutilated being is KNIFE OF THE OCEAN?!
"It... it can't be!" Drifter cried. "How can this happen?!"
"I told you already, carpenter boy, he got discovered by the keen senses of that fly-swarmed guard!" Akira cried again. "I have no idea why he suddenly turned up here but at least we got him back now. Naar, what are we supposed to do?"
"We do what we must, Akira." Naar Kalaman said, his caste mark blazing in response. "We will have to go by the Eclipse's authority over these beings."
The Solars journeyed inside the city by means of Naar Kalaman's Anima influence, and after some much-needed bargaining and dealing with the heads of the settlement they were able to acquire the stolen items from Knife of the Ocean's inventory and also the poor mortal girl that Fak'Haru had asked them to collect.
As they journeyed out of the city, thoughts ran across Drifter's mind, seeing how Knife of the Ocean now looked like. Azure Heart of the Sunrise had assured him that the Night Caste pirate is still very much alive, sensing the healing charms in effect already, but the degree of scarring he has received was already beyond their comprehension and capability. Only well-trained Twilights of the Unconquered Sun could possibly restore his complete health without flaw.
And for once, he blamed himself for being so useless.
Deny it as he might, for most of the time he had not been much use in their conquests. Sure, he is an adept fighter when needed and a specialist in Magitech vessels and ships, but his specializations as a Twilight have not yet reached its fullest potential, thus still sealing certain arts and skills that he is still unable to attain. And as they walked out of the gates, pondering about the locations of the three sirens of the Storm Mother's errand, Drifter resolved to a decision: He will prove himself a worthy Twilight of their band.
As he stared at Knife of the Ocean's mutilated face, now half-carried by Raging Snowstorm out of the city, he came to his first resolve. Thoughts entered his mind like encouraging whispers of an intricately forged mask, wrought out of iron yet given enforcements by Orichalcum. A visage of gray steel to temporarily mask the hideous face until such time that he or Naar Kalaman could figure a way to reverse the befoulment the pirate has received. Armor will not be a problem, for he always comes equipped in combat, thus concealing much of the hideous work. For him the face mattered, for it is one's mirror to other people - an expression of their inner soul.
By the time the Unconquered Sun completely vanished from the horizon, the mask's final design had already been indelibly etched in his mind. All it needs now is to put it on paper - and to add a spice of magitech to it.
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