Private Tales After the storm

[Lachlan Irwin]

Now Lachlan was grinning widely.

"Dawn. Dawn's Revenge does certainly have a ring to it!" He answered, following his friend to look down at the Arnim.

"She's going to curse my grave. Yours too. Sent her a letter before we headed off on this mission." His Nana would not be impressed, but soon will start to miss her grandson. At least he was making a name for himself other than charming every tourist that came to Vel Odren like his father.

"Oi! That sword by your feet! Place it with the decoy body that will be me. Should sell the story a bit better." He called out to one of the men down below. To Ivan, he showed his friend the twin sword he had picked back up after coming back on board after his dip in the water. "Irwin crest." A lighthouse above the cliff, etched into the pommel. "Fuck, Ivan. This may just kill her..." Worry tugged at his brows, furrowing them. She was the only family he truly cared about. None of the girls that clung to him at the Academy were worth any thought when it came to wondering how his grandmother would take the news of his supposed death.

 

[Ivan Skender]

- "Now, that's a name." - He muttered, as much to himself, as to the initiate next to him. Secretly though, he counted his blessings for nanna Irwin's name being something that actually inspired respect, because he reckoned he wouldn't have had the heart to turn down Lachlan's name choice otherwise... and by Kress, sailing on something named the Henriette's Revenge sounded about as silly as it could get.

- "I think you overestimate how much she loves you." - He grinned. The feeling of having someone that actually cared for him waiting back home for his return was rather alien to him. He had seen it in others yes, those comrades back at the Academy that feared how the family and friends they'd left behind, would fare with them gone, but such sentimentality was - in all fairness - rather lost on him. - "In any case, you'll go back to her." - He clasped Lachie's shoulder. - "Though I guess how mad she'll be at you will depend on the manner of your return." -

Before them, the thugs had followed Lachlan's bidding and had, in the meantime, set the Arnim ablaze. Already the first columns of smoke could be seen rising from the lower decks.

- "Anyways," - He said, turning to the prow. - "then is then, and now is now; so let's enjoy the moment shall we?" - Another grin.

- "Pick a course Master Irwin, let's set sail." - ​

 

[Lachlan Irwin]

Lachlan stayed a moment to watch the smaller vessel take flame, watching his chance at taking it all back turn black in the smoke filling the minimizing dot upon the horizon. "Right, when I return." Now he shifted, facing Ivan as he leaned against the craftsmanship taken into the railing. "I suppose I can tell the Academy and all concerned 'Oopsies!' and call it a day." He rolled his shoulders, picking up the dry clothing he had found.

He crossed the distance to the captain's quarters, "I don't know, Skender... I barely remember where the fuck we are, but after I wash off the sea water and put on these pitiful clothes, then you and I can plot a course and determine our first destination."

The water was nothing like Vel Odren. There was less salt, less murkiness but he supposed the storm had not helped the currents. A lot of debris, dust, and earth would have found itself in the sea.

Eventide rolled by once Lachlan made an unappearance, looking scraggly in the larger clothing, but it seemed to work in his favour. His hair, pale and clean, fell into his face more than he'd like it to. Map in hand and a lantern in the other, he spilled it open and whistled to get Ivan's attention.

"Did you work out where we are?"

 

[Ivan Skender]

It had taken Ivan a surprisingly little amount of time after Lachlan had left to figure out where they were. Beyond his natural sense of direction, he also had Admiral Verceg - and his lessons during the trip to Malakath - to thank, as it'd taught him those few factors he had been missing on the high seas, that he'd relied upon while on dry land.

In any case, while Irwin had been busying himself with... whatever it was he had been doing, Ivan had immediately - and predictably - started getting absolutely hammered with the rest of the crew. Though the pirates hadn't had much gold on them, they sure had stocked up on rum.

As Lachlan returned onto deck, he'd find Ivan lazing about, sprawled over the flight of stairs that led up the stern castle, and drinking heartily with their new crew. He raised a brow as he heard Lachlan whistle from across the deck, reluctantly walking over to where his friend was. He poured over the map, pointing then to an unwashed piece of paper, representing the sea just to the south of the Cortosi Coast.

- "Here." - He said, then adding with a shrug: - "If we just sail west, southwest, or south we'll land somewhere." - Truth be told, he didn't have much of a clue about what there would be in those places, but that was a problem for later.​

​

For now, the rum flowed and the sun was setting, a perfect time to drink and celebrate the capture of their new ship. - "Tomorrow we can figure out to which island we sail first, but for now let's have some drinks, shall we?" - He offered Lachlan a half-full cup. - "Get to know the crew." - He clasped the other initiate's shoulder, leaning his head slightly. - "You better, actually, your life may depend on it at some point." -

He then changed his mind, retracted the cup, and handed Lachie a full bottle of rum.​

 

[Lachlan Irwin]

"My life may depend on it?" It brought a smile on Lachlan's face. The notion of befriending someone put him at unease. Girls had no problem flocking to him, giving him company to the point he knew that any girl worth pursuing was not the girl for him. He had once tried to decipher if Orchid tried to befriend him once, but the lad had been asking advice to befriend someone else.

It was fortunate for him that Ivan was charismatic enough to rope Lachlan in as if they were old friends, instead of newly acquainted strangers. The time spent traveling to the port had established their friendship, but the time at sea cemented just how trusting they were of each other. Equals, a world to convince that one day, each of them will be known for their greatness.

"Well, I would hate to leave you alone in this world." He grinned, accepting the bottle of rum and taking a hearty swig. Lachie made a face, when wine and whatever cheap ale he was able to get his hands on had been the only taste of alcohol he had experienced. His Nana chastised him back home, pushing Lachlan to not end up down the road his father took. She had always said she wanted to pass the family business down to someone worthy, not a waste of resource and unconditional love.

Lachlan wandered to the others, the crew gathered and sharing stories. He was quiet upon his approach, happy to listen to them talk, but their interests soon turned to the boys. Initiates, of Vel Anir no less, would have had an interesting life learning to become weapons for the Republic to deploy. They questioned him, before one of them piped up louder than the rest.

"You ever watched someone die from that whip of yours, boy?"

To even consider whether or not he would answer that question needed a long drink of the rum in his hands. The bottle sloshed as Lachlan dropped it to his knee, head hanging slightly as he wracked his brains. It was there, at the edges of his mind, pushed aside after a younger Lachlan realised how awful it was to witness it.

How was answering this going to make them all friends?

"Yes..." Lachlan's grip over the neck of the bottle of rum tightened, exhilaterated and fearful that he had admitted it. "I was eight. My cousin used to drag me along to see the rich folk come to Vel Odren on the boats, try and swindle some money. Hat tricks, card tricks... hell, we even learned how to touch fire without getting burned. One lord was entertained and tickled by our performance, inviting us to do exactly that at one of his poker nights."

Lachlan didn't want to say it, didn't want to remember it, but for his cousin's sake, he had to keep his story alive somehow.

"One of the guests was drunk. Way too fucking drunk, and it affected his game. He was losing, bad, and a good few hours into the night had the idea that each time he lost, he would take turns striking me. My cousin... he was older than me, able to fight back if he wanted to. Stood in my place, insisted on it. So the man ruined each round for himself, laughed about it, boasted how he was going to hurt my cousin." Fuck.This was definitely not a way to make friends with the men that fought alongside them against the pirates.

Lachlan shuffled in his seat atop a barrel, lifting his hazel eyes to look at each of the faces looking to him. Some looked as if they knew what would happen, where this story was headed. As if it were common where they had hailed from, but none had told him to shut up. Lachie took in a shaky breath, not needing to turn and see where Skender stood as he could feel those icy eyes on him.

"He was beaten to bad, I began to try and interfere. The lord told his butler to lock me in a room, and for hours, I listened to my cousin scream and cry. When dawn came, it was fucking silent in that house. I... don't remember going home, but I remember I got home without my cousin. They sent his body by noon, and my Nana told me to come with her. The man was to leave Vel Odren so soon, probably to get away from scandal. But Nana found him, brought the fucker down in an alleyway with the help of some of the men that work for her. She took my hands, put them on either side of the man's face and told me to get angry. It was easy to be blind, to get so upset I... yeah, that awakened my magic." And Lachlan left it at that.

"Dawn's Revenge." The crew member murmured after a moment. His boot stomped on the deck, a tribute to Lachie's Nana.

 

[Ivan Skender]

Though he might not have expected it, Lachlan would be able to observe as the entire crew mimicked his gesture, their boots all hitting the deck in unison, the clamouring of hard leather on wood enough to thunder well past the Dawn's Revenge.

As those last echoes died down, complete and utter silence followed; sepulchral, and deafening at the same time.

- "And how did you feel afterwards?" - The blonde broke the silence. Should Lachlan stare back at Ivan though, he'd find the friendly, sly demeanour gone, fully erased from his face. In its place was... well, it would not be clear to anyone what that expression was. It was impenetrable, mysterious, inscrutable.

There was no comradery on Ivan's features, but neither was there hostility, or disdain.​

 

[Lachlan Irwin]

Lachlan sat up straighter when he saw the impassive expression his friend wore, but the question had been asked, and the others had ceased their tribute in stomping boots to listen keenly for the Stinger's answer.

"I was eight. I felt higher than the gods." And his grandmother, her crew, made him believe it. He felt like an Odren secret, being hidden away when the Dreadlords came to test him for magic. Money also had a hand in keeping him away from them, and his family had such quiet wealth. The whole crew did.

Would these men and Ivan think of him differently if they came to learn his name would be on the small but bustling casino when his grandmother passed?

"I was... fifteen when an Archon was holidaying and saw me using magic. My grandmother said it was up to me, now that I was old enough to make decisions. I chose the Academy." Because he wanted a taste of life that took him away from the sea, the island... "I felt like god again making that decision."