The Nightshatter drifted across calm waters, its steady hum punctuated by the slosh of gentle waves. For days now, Roy had led his crew on a hunt for Abyssforged treasure, sinking slaver ships and freeing every captive they found. While that moral victory felt good, it didn't yield the kind of bounty they needed to sustain their ever-growing fortress, and the repeated routine of fruitless patrols had everyone on edge.
High above the main deck, Warrex and Eryndra clashed in another fierce sparring session. It was late afternoon on the fourth day of aimless cruising, and the two hadn't let up since dawn. Warrex's barked instructions crackled through the air.
"Angle your heel more. There! Don't let your elbow flare, or you'll lose power!"
Eryndra half-rolled her eyes but still tightened her form, delivering each kick with sharper precision. When she landed incorrectly or moved too wide, Warrex halted her with a firm block or a light backhand to the forearm, using brute force to illustrate her mistakes. Though she was clearly holding most of her power back, Warrex's technique was better, more practiced, and he continued giving corrections in a rough, almost paternal way.
"Seriously, if I can see it coming, a real threat will tear you apart," he grunted. "Again!"
Eryndra bit back a snappy retort, swallowing her irritation to absorb his advice. "Thanks," she forced out, hurling another kick that snapped the air with a crack.
A few dozen paces away, Roy and Lutrian had set up near a small pile of crates. Lutrian had insisted they find a quiet corner of the flight deck for magic practice, away from the clamor of Warrex's fist-on-flesh demonstrations. Lutrian moved gracefully through the demonstration, laying his hands atop Roy's and trying to guide him through the mental choreography of forming a barrier.
"This is the most basic spell I can teach you with your limited magical capability," Lutrian said softly. He repositioned Roy's wrists. "A light barrier. It's spherical, and it's fueled directly by your mana. But the stronger the attack it blocks, the more mana it drains. So… it's not without risk."
Roy exhaled, closed his eyes, and dug into the pit of energy he'd been training to harness. A faint glow shimmered around his palms, culminating in a transparent shield that hovered for a single heartbeat—and then flickered out with a pathetic pop.
Roy winced, rubbing his temples. "That's the best I can do after months? Seriously?"
"It's all about focus, Captain," Lutrian said with a patient smile. "You might have a mountain of mana, but your skill in manipulating it is… well, let's call it a work in progress."
Roy tried again. This time, the barrier held for maybe a second or two before dissolving. A light sweat broke out across his forehead. "I can't hold it," he muttered, fighting off a surge of frustration.
"Baby steps," Lutrian encouraged. "You'll get there."
Roy grimaced but gave a small nod, letting his breath even out. He cast a glance at Warrex and Eryndra, still entrenched in their spar, each blow and block echoing across the deck. Lutrian, noticing Roy's wandering focus, gently patted his shoulder. "We'll pause for now," he offered. Roy shrugged in reluctant agreement. There was only so much short-circuiting of his brain he could handle in a single lesson.
That evening, with the day's final patrol behind them—and still no sign of a promising bounty—boredom gnawed at the crew. Warrex had taken to pacing from bow to stern, scowling into the distance as if daring an enemy fleet to appear. Eryndra, though calmer, occasionally let out frustrated huffs, clearly itching for something more substantial than routine training. Lutrian quietly pored over charts, while Takara sat fiddling with small runic plates, half out of habit, half to stave off her own restlessness. Even Roy felt the tension coiling in his chest. They needed a break.
So, in one of his impulsive spur-of-the-moment decisions, Roy ordered the Presidroids to convert part of the flight deck into a large, steaming tub of heated water, essentially a jury-rigged hot spring. He supervised as they hammered together the wooden framework, then rigged up the waterlines. Takara set a small fire rune at the base of the tub to keep everything piping hot, and soon steam was drifting lazily under the night sky.
Once it was ready, Roy tested the temperature with a hand and allowed himself a grin. The warmth felt glorious against his skin. "If I imagine it hard enough, this might pass for a genuine hot tub," he said, calling the others.
He turned around to call the crew, then nearly jumped out of his skin: Warrex and Lutrian already stood bare as day, apparently ready to dive in. Takara squeaked in alarm, slapping her hands over her eyes.
Roy's mouth fell open. "Nooo, wash off first, and get swimsuits, you fools! We're sharing this tub with the girls."
Eryndra paused mid-motion, one shoulder piece of her armor half removed. She eyed Roy uncertainly, waiting for him to advise her.
"Look at poor Eryndra," Roy scolded Warrex and Lutrian, "you two are terrible influences. Shame!"
Warrex rolled his eyes, muttering, "Seriously?". Eryndra, for her part, blinked uncertainly. She tentatively reached for a small towel, mimicking Roy's annoyance as if it were a rule to be followed. Lutrian and Warrex just shrugged as if the fuss was simply Roy's otherworldliness. Still, they both trudged off to rinse themselves at Roy's request.
After a quick, perfunctory wash, they returned to the flight deck with the minimal swimwear Roy had insisted upon. Takara had grabbed a modest two-piece that concealed most of her midriff, embroidered with neat little runes along the edges. Warrex, used to simpler underclothes from his mercenary days, ended up in a plain T-shirt and snug, short trunks that left little to the imagination. Lutrian chose a pair of white trunks with subtle gold detailing. Eryndra selected a dark green bikini, straightforward enough—when Roy asked if she was comfortable, she offered a small shrug, as if to say, "Isn't this what you told us to do?"
Roy himself wore a plain pair of black trunks and a charcoal gray T-shirt. He stepped into the steaming tub, the water rising to his knees, and let out a blissful sigh as heat seeped into his tired muscles.
As he started peeling off his shirt, he glanced over and noticed the absolutely shredded physiques of Warrex and Lutrian. Warrex's torso was scarred but rippling with muscle, specifically his pecs; Lutrian's abs looked carved from stone. Roy swallowed hard before looking away. "Uh… I think I'll keep this on," he blurted.
Warrex cocked his head, confused. "Having trouble?" he asked. Before Roy could protest, Warrex grabbed the shirt's hem, yanked, and ripped it clear in half, tossing the scraps off the Nightshatter.
"Eep!" Roy squeaked, frantically covering his torso with crossed arms as if trying to shield every inch of exposed skin as he dropped into the warm water. Warrex just shrugged, clueless. Lutrian blinked, not sure if he should apologize for Warrex or laugh.
Takara hovered on the edge a moment, dipping a toe in, exhaling as the warmth lapped at her ankles. Then she eased into the water with a soft gasp of relief. Eryndra followed, arms folded across her chest, eyes flicking around to gauge how exactly she was supposed to position herself. The swirl of steam rose around them like a welcoming cloud.
As Roy tried to settle, his shoulders finally beginning to relax, a tiny figure whipped past the edge of the pool, dousing Roy in a sudden splash. Skellbro had struck again, darting away with an impish snicker. "Agh! You little shit!" Roy snarled, water dripping down his nose as he pointed in Skellbro's direction. "Teddy, Lincoln! Get 'em!"
The two Presidroids on standby jolted to attention and chased after Skellbro, who sprinted across the deck. Over the last few months, the skeleton had definitely gained speed and cunning. Even though the Presidroids were fast, it took them a few tries before Skellbro finally allowed himself to be caught. With an almost mocking surrender, Skellbro plopped down, rattling in glee at the scolding.
While the mini-drama unfolded, Warrex sank deeper into the water, combing his hair forward in an attempt to hide the burned tips of his ears. Roy had noticed this habit more than once. After double-checking that the hot tub side wasn't about to be ambushed by another skeleton, Roy reached out carefully.
He scooped a handful of warm water and let it trickle over Warrex's head again, gently parting the hair that Warrex had tried so carefully to arrange. "Having trouble?" Roy asked, voice kind but insistent.
Warrex stiffened at once. "No, I can't—"
"There we go, much better," Roy said brightly, flattening Warrex's hair so the old scars on his ears showed. "Right, guys?"
From behind Warrex, Father Skeleton suddenly emerged in the water, wearing a baseball cap and a scarf, paired with bright pink swim bottoms and a popped swan floaty. His bony jaw clacked open. "Yes!" Father Skeleton exclaimed, slapping a bony hand on Warrex's shoulder. "Magnificent!"
Roy caught the flicker of panic in Warrex's eyes. The big mercenary's gaze darted around, ears flattening in embarrassment. But Takara offered him a gentle smile, Eryndra gave a small approving nod, and Lutrian murmured some soft reassurance under his breath.
Roy took a moment, adopting a calm expression. "Never let your scars have the final word," he said, twisting to show the ragged burn that stretched across his own upper back, a souvenir from his less than stellar youth. "You can be scared or nervous, but after that, be brave. Unlike me."
For a moment, Warrex's hardened exterior cracked. Roy swore he saw genuine vulnerability. Then Warrex cleared his throat and turned away only to end up face-to-face with Father Skeleton's bony grin.
"Oop, hot springs from the eyes!" Father Skeleton croaked, toppling backward with a splash.
Suddenly, a shrill scream tore through the peaceful steam. Skelly Mom had arrived, draped in an old-fashioned polka-dotted swimsuit. She lifted her arms and belted out a near-banshee wail for no reason other than to announce herself, apparently. Roy nearly choked laughing at the sheer spectacle. Eryndra couldn't help but clap, her eyes alight with amusement as Skelly Mom posed with what she must've thought was a sultry strut, sliding into the tub in what was meant to be slow motion.
Steam drifted lazily above the makeshift tub as laughter tapered into comfortable silence. Warrex leaned back and released a slow, cautious breath, like he half-expected a new threat to emerge at any second. "Can't recall the last time I've been able to just... sit," he admitted quietly, staring upward into the darkening sky.
Lutrian nodded, letting his eyes drift closed. "It's strange," he murmured, voice barely audible above the gentle bubbling water. "Back home, there were royal baths. Expensive oils and marble statues. But somehow this feels more luxurious."
"Luxurious?" Takara echoed softly, an amused twitch at her lips. She shifted a bit, sinking deeper into the water with a contented sigh. "I'm pretty sure my muscles forgot how to relax weeks ago."
Eryndra cocked her head slightly, idly tracing small circles across the water's steaming surface. She seemed fascinated by the way the droplets danced on her fingertips. "Relaxing..." she mused, as if testing the word in her mouth. Her eyes met Roy's briefly, offering a fleeting half-smile. "I think I understand it a little better now."
Father Skeleton drifted leisurely past, humming some off-key tune that no one could quite place. He raised a skeletal finger in silent acknowledgment, then disappeared again into the steam, still humming quietly.
Roy stretched his legs under the water, sinking back against the warm wood and allowed himself a small, genuine smile.
But the moment couldn't last. A disembodied voice crackled through a small speaker nearby, Serenity's voice, measured and cold. "Captain, reconnaissance drones report a massive fleet approaching on the eastern horizon. At least ten thousand ships, with an estimated five hours until contact."
Warrex shot up so quickly that water surged out of the tub in a wave that nearly launched roy from the edge. Roy sputtered, swallowing a mouthful of the hot water. "T-t-ten thousand!" he coughed, wiping his mouth.
Warrex's eyes gleamed. "Ten thousand ships can only be one crew."
Lutrian half-rose, water trailing off his elbows. "That number is an misleading. She is one of only three Illusory Mages in the known world. The Shimmering Sunscale is what they call her, and she weaves illusions of vast fleets to intimidate her enemies. The real count's maybe around two to three thousand small ships total."
Roy let out a shaky breath, the shock still rattling in his lungs. "And is she strong?"
Warrex's lips twisted into a confident grin. "If records can be trusted, she's considered the ninth or tenth strongest captain in the Abyssforged Alliance. Her illusions are dangerous, but in a real fight, her crew is supposedly the weakest overall. She's never beaten Kaelor in a skirmish, and we handled Kaelor well enough."
Takara shivered at the memory. "'Handled' wouldn't be my word. Kaelor nearly killed me."
Eryndra nodded. "We'd have to rely on sensors if there are illusions. At least we won't be shooting at ghosts."
Roy inhaled, forcing the swirl of adrenaline in his chest to settle. "Everyone out. Meeting on the bridge in ten. We're not letting illusions or real ships sneak up on us."
Water cascaded off them as they hastily clambered out. Roy snagged a spare towel and dragged it across his hair, blinking away the last swirl of steam. Skelly Mom let out another triumphant holler, delighted by the abrupt exodus. Father Skeleton raised a single bony hand, as if in salute, then sank back into the hot tub with a contented rattle.
Roy tossed his damp towel aside as he stepped on the bridge. "So here's the plan…" he said, beckoning the others as they headed in to prepare.