Chương 15: Chapter 114: Accord

After sending Anathor off to ask Amelia and Menes to come to her, she had a few minutes to herself. Not feeling like sitting down again, Serena paced her room, coming to a stop when she caught sight of her reflection in the room's only mirror. It was strange to see such a healthy and youthful woman looking back at her. The stresses of war and the few injuries she'd carried had been completely obliterated by Amelia's frequent healing.

Not only had she returned to the very picture of health, but Serena looked younger in general. Amelia's magic had taken more than half a decade off her and, while her reversed ageing seemed to have slowed down, her skin was smooth and blemish-free in a way that should be impossible for a battlefield veteran like her. And, of course, there was Amelia's damn hornweaving, still stubbornly wrapped around her horns, resistant to all removal efforts so far.

Although she would have to get Amelia to remove it, she couldn't deny the feeling of soft, tender appreciation originating from her heart for the lovingly attached accessory.

"I've changed," she muttered to herself. And it wasn't just her who'd changed. There was Melanie Mori, originally a stuck-up demon brimming with arrogance; she'd quickly become a fine officer of the Vengeance's cohort after having her horns straightened by Amelia. Officer Mori needed a few more years of experience to truly mould her into an Imperial officer, but Serena had no doubt she would soon captain her own ship, perhaps even speak a Word.

Then there was Finella Bright, a talented and intelligent demon that had an inquisitive side far stronger than Serena had guessed. Alongside Finella, Aiden surprised her over the last few weeks by assisting Finella with a shocking amount of competence she never thought the man had in him, despite his troubles conquering his airsickness. And then there was Menes, who'd omitted much of who he was to keep her guard down. It was Serena's failure to respect him that had caused her to be so sloppy.

Her own assumptions about the South and how its hierarchy—the Tasalsul —worked caused her to assume Menes had achieved his position through power alone. He wasn't an ordinary man. He was a Sayyid and, judging by how his men acted, a capable and respected commander. He was a Cascadian Lord, and Serena should've kept that fact at the forefront of her mind when dealing with him. Even now, as he and Amelia made their way to her quarters, she hadn't yet decided on how to handle him.

Menes wasn't the only one with whom Serena was having trouble deciding what to do. Anathor—the ship's Formless, guardian, and advisor to the captain—was another entity that she struggled to wrap her mind around. If Serena's dreams had any bearing on reality, Anathor had been human. She hadn't yet had time to fully process the consequences of that nugget of knowledge, so she had simply decided to continue on as normal until she had more time to think.

"Captain?" The slightest jolt of surprise ran through Serena's body.

"Anathor?" she asked.

"You've been staring at me, Captain," Anathor replied.

"I thought you wanted something." Ah. She'd lost herself in her thoughts, and her eyes had been unfocused, staring at the moose's stuffed head.

"No, Anathor, just wondering about… things."

"Hmm…." Maybe she would pick his brains just a little.

"There is something I wanted to ask, Anathor."

"Yes, Captain?"

"I read something in an old book in the Asamaywa library," Serena said. It felt strange lying to Anathor.

"The text mentioned something about moon altars—temples of power. Do you… know what that might be referring to?" She didn't want to open the line of questioning regarding Anathor's human life, so she would ask just this, to test the waters. Moon altars. Temples of power. Words the weary captain—Anathor's father—had used in the dream memory.

"Hmm…" Anathor was quiet for a long while, and Serena thought for a moment he wasn't going to say anything. Lucky for her, Anathor was in a chatty mood, saying, "What a distant memory you've brought back, Captain. Before Miss Thornheart's healing, I don't think I could have remembered this… I think…" Anathor trailed off and, once again, Serena thought he wasn't going to elaborate.

The moose's eyes suddenly flashed red, and Anathor recited in an almost hypnotic fashion, " Nine old beasts from days gone by, sealed away where none ask why. Nine dark temples, cold and deep, where ancient monsters lie asleep." The hairs on the back of Serena's neck rose. The room's temperature dipped as she took a sharp breath." Nine strong keys to bind the door,"Anathor continued, his voice carrying with it an ethereal echo," scattered wide forevermore.

Lose them not, nor break the chain—or beasts shall walk the world again." The Formless was silent for a moment before saying, "That's what I remember, Captain." It was a haunting rhyme, and for a brief time, strange, vivid imagery came to Serena's mind. A world of endless land and water, where terrible destruction rained down relentlessly, seeking to end all life forever. Then Serena blinked, and the thoughts were gone.

"What does that refer to, Anathor?" Serena asked.

"The titanlords the Empress fought during The Long Discordancy?"

"... No, Captain. So long ago…" Anathor's voice was strained, as if he was trying his best to remember a distant thought.

"Even when I was young, when I first heard this said to me, it was in an old, forgotten language. It was a warning, a warning that was already thousands of years old when I heard it. So old, no one knew what it was referring to."

"And do you know?"

"... Captain?"

"What events it refers to?"

"I…" Anathor paused.

"Captain, I—" For the first time ever, Serena heard fear in the Formless' voice.

"I don't dare think of it any further, Captain," Anathor whispered.

"There have been events… things that have happened in this world, long before the Empress or the Enemy arrived. They have been forgotten, and should stay forgotten… I don't want to discuss this any further…"

"Sorry to bother you, Anathor," Serena said, not knowing what to think. A part of her wanted to protest, to push the mysterious Formless for more answers, but another part of her sparked a warning in her mind that this was something she shouldn't be involved with, something alien, something old and something beyond her full comprehension.

"Hmm… Miss Liona and Sayyid Bastet arriving, Captain."

"Thank you, Anathor." Serena sniffed.

"Take a break."

"Aye, Captain." With Anathor gone, Serena took a moment to adjust her uniform in the mirror, ensuring it was spotless and straight. Making her final adjustments, she positioned herself in the centre of the room, facing the door. There, she waited as Amelia and Menes made their way down the hallway. From the sound of it, they were in mid-discussion.

"... It crackles down your throat? Isn't that not nice, my anisa?" Serena heard Menes ask.

"No, it's quite nice, actually! Apparently, it's a defensive mechanism against predators, but it won't harm us because we're so big! They even put it in rations for Northern soldiers because it warms the body so much!"

"Interesting!" Menes exclaimed.

"And what did you call it?"

"Firemint tea!" Amelia chirped.

"I have some, actually! Would you like to try it?"

"Certainly, my anisa. I would be honoured!" Two small knocks sounded.

"Come in," Serena called. The door opened, and Amelia stepped through, overshadowed by the much larger Arakian demon. Amelia gave her a small wave and a grin, bouncing up to her, while Menes took a few slow, confident steps.

"Welcome, Menes," Serena said, looking for any sign of deception or hostility in his eyes. Now that she was really paying attention, she could see the intelligence and awareness within him.

"My sayyidah," Menes intoned, touching his horns in greeting.

"Fun in the kitchen?" Serena asked, raising a questioning eyebrow at Amelia.

"Mmm!" Amelia nodded happily.

"They're really starting to cheer up, especially once Acting-Captain Voss came down and gave them a rousing speech. You should have heard it! It was really good! We ran out of hog, unfortunately, but Menes was telling me about Ishaqian cuisine!" Menes nodded along with Amelia.

"That's right, I was telling her about our renowned street food. Ishaqian skewers rival any Vinay kebab this side of the Known World, my sayyidah." Menes leaned in slightly, his eyes glinting.

"When we cook them, we use delicious cilantro and tarragon sauces. The meat is so tender it falls from the skewer. You will love it, I promise you this, my sayyidah."

"They also have their own variation of Red Loqua!" Amelia chirped before turning and looking up at Menes.

"What was it called, again?

"Relik, my anisa,""Yeah! Relik loqua!" Amelia faced Serena, continuing, "It's red loqua, but warmed up with spices. Apparently, different houses and neighbourhoods have their own secret recipes, and they compete in festivals for the best loqua! Oh, there are also fishing competitions, kite-flying competitions—""Kite flying, yes." Menes stretched his arms up, gripping some kind of imaginary handle.

"The heat from the Red Sands pulls a constant breeze from the Southern skies. We have good flying weather all year round. They are so brightly coloured it's like a school of fish flying through the skies, my anisa. The kite flyers battle each other, yes? The kites have sharpened edges, and the goal is to cut each other's strings."

"And, and"—Amelia could hardly contain herself—"their wilderness isn't like the wilderness in the East! They don't have massive Ironwoods, but shorter trees with enormous"—Amelia spread her arms wide—"leaves that you can sit or even sleep on! Apparently, the peekas like to sunbathe up there!" Despite the awkward upcoming conversation, Serena let Amelia go on about Ishaq for another minute. The atmosphere had cooled after talking to Anathor, and Amelia's natural warmth was appreciated.

Although Serena tried to control her expression, she could feel her heart softening at Amelia's bubbly enthusiasm and endless optimism. In fact, just Amelia's general excitement at experiencing new things raised Serena's mood. There seemed to be no end to her girlfriend's excited rambling. Well, that was true until Amelia had to finally take a breath lest she start healing herself to keep going.

"I see you've been getting on," Serena said. She turned to Menes and said, "I do hope you aren't trying to extract information from Miss Liona."

"Ha! You're a very suspicious woman, aren't you, my sayyidah?" Menes folded his arms.

"If you refuse to tell me the real reason she's coming to the South, then I have no choice but to verify her personality myself and make sure she isn't a threat." Menes' eyes glinted as he looked down at her, his horns barely missing the ceiling.

"Isn't that right, my sayyidah?" Serena folded her own arms, countering Menes' posture, refusing to feel the slightest bit of intimidation.

"And what exactly is it that makes you suspect that there's more to Miss Liona's deployment than what I've already explained? Intra-Empire deployments across Terra Firmas are standard practice."

"While you argue, I'm going to make tea!" Amelia chirped, ducking away and popping up by the side table they used to make their morning coffee. With deft hands, Amelia rotated the moon-crystal powered kettle and began the process of measuring out firemint tea leaves. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Menes watched Amelia with careful, calculating eyes before meeting Serena's own.

"Before I left Ishaq to patrol the passage, I had heard about her planned event in Asamaywa. Even in Ishaq, many veterans of the battlefield were making plans to go there." Menes rubbed his chin.

"I believe many risked the Passage to travel East, hoping to arrive in time, may the Red Moon light their path."

"Veterans of the battlefield?" Serena questioned.

"From the recent conflict?"

"Yes. There are more than you realise. Unfortunately, Ishaq attracts those who have struggles of the mind"—Menes tapped his head—"they come to forget. They come to Ishaq, as the tensions in the Far East and their market controls have deprived most of the Empire of what these men desire and need—Ainese molasses."

"Ainese molasses?" Serena's eyes widened when she realised what Menes was talking about.

"You're talking about opium," she said, feeling her words take on a note of bitterness.

"Opium, yes," Menes affirmed.

"Dust is banned in Ishaq, and those who partake in smuggling it are hanged. Many men have the shakes these days, don't they? It is a terrible thing for the horrors of the battlefield to follow them home. If they cannot get better themselves, then they turn to drugs, yes? You must have seen it, my sayyidah?"

"... I have," Serena said, thinking of the huddled figures she'd seen shaking in the shadow of dilapidated buildings and alleyways in the Asamaywa lowlands.

"But to come all the way to Ishaq? It's quite the journey."

"There are other locations, of course. Shiloh and Yameni also import the drug, if the Ainese ships are willing to brave going near the Shattered Isles. But… they still come to Ishaq. I believe they come because you cannot get any further South than this. Not unless you turn pirate. I believe they want to forget and think the distance from the battlefield will help. I do not like them, but our opium dens earn Ishaq a mountain of gold each year."

"How sad…" Amelia muttered as a minty fragrance began to fill the room.

"They must be suffering…"

"They do suffer, my anisa, but the midnight oil—that's what they call it—sedates them and makes them forget, but it does not cure them. If I may—""One moment, Menes," Serena said, raising a hand to interrupt him. She felt that if she didn't take control of the conversation, she would lose the initiative to Menes.

"We're going off track. I ask again, what makes you suspicious of the nature of Miss Liona's deployment?"

"Well, my sayyidah, I am not ignorant of the significance of her"—Menes gestured to Amelia—"and what she means to the Empire. We heard about the healing of the lowlands, and if I can guess, I imagine the planned event many of our veterans travelled to was also very big. Is that right, my anisa?"

"Mmm!" Amelia hummed, pouring out the tea into three cups.

"Don't worry, if those veterans were nearby, I would have healed them!"

"That is good to hear," Menes said.

"Knowing what I know, there is no way the Great Sayyids would sneak her off without good reason. They would want to make a spectacle of her, would they not? They would bring her to Centralis, and have many events and photographs, unless"—Menes' eyes narrowed—"there was an important duty that she must fill? Important duties in far-flung and hidden areas of the Empire?" Serena took a moment to settle on her reply.

"If you heard about the event, you must have heard about her need to rest after such a significant event. I don't see why you wouldn't conclude that her presence here was an excuse for her to recuperate while giving the East time to relax after her—as you put it—big event."

"Mmm…" Menes closed his eyes, nodding slowly.

"That is possible, but she does not seem tired now, does she? Nor did she seem tired shortly after creating such large Marzanna wards, my sayyidah. I do not believe she needs to rest." Serena silently cursed herself once more for underestimating the Arakian. The man, large and scarred, possessed a sharp intelligence that you wouldn't notice unless you paid careful attention. While it was too late to make up for her former laxness, Serena wouldn't make the same mistake again.

"I also considered your words that she was here to integrate with demon society better, yes?" Menes' forehead creased and his eyes became sharp.

"But there is no reason she would be here, with the Hellfire Captain on the Black Ship, isn't that right, my sayyidah? There are better, more public ways for her to integrate with society, such as her time at the academy, yes? So there must be a deeper, more secret duty underneath it all. That is what I know you're hiding from me." Serena took a slow breath.

She could, of course, argue that there was an extremely good reason why Amelia might be travelling with the Vengeance to integrate with demon society instead of partaking in other institutions on the mainland: that Amelia was hopelessly and wonderfully in love with her, and the feeling was mutual and any attempt to separate them would lead to some very stern words being spoken—or Words being Spoken. But she wasn't going to share that with Menes. Knowing him, the bastard was probably suspecting it already, anyway.

Serena took another slow breath, choosing her words carefully.

"Menes," she began, "I—""Here you go!" Amelia announced suddenly.

"Freshly brewed firemint tea! The water was exactly eighty-eight thols for three minutes, so it should maximise the popping effect!" Before Serena could question her girlfriend, she had a mug of hot tea thrust into her hands.

"Try it!" Amelia encouraged, taking a sip herself.

"It feels nice!" Glancing at Menes, Serena raised the cup to her lips. As she did, the Arakian followed suit, and they both took a sip of Amelia's firemint tea. The taste of mint was fresh and reinvigorating, but it was when Serena swallowed that she felt her eyes widen. Thousands of tiny crackles burst like aetherfield static at the back of her throat. It was a dry fizzing that, for a moment, dominated her senses.

It didn't hurt, but it was such a bizarre feeling that Serena could do nothing but focus on it until it finally died down.

"That's… something," Serena mumbled.

"Very tasty, my anisa," Menes mumbled, taking another sip.

"Mmm! I'm glad you like it!"

"Eighty-eight thols for three minutes," Menes said, echoing Amelia's words.

"How did you come to know so much about Northern firemint?"

"A friend taught me," Amelia responded, giving Serena a wink.

"In Asamaywa." Ah, yes. That was right. In the Old Guard Headquarters, just before Noburu had been interrogated, Amelia had—in a moment that Serena originally prayed came about from a sudden development of apocalyptic insanity, but later had to admit it was just another case of Amelia being Amelia—befriended the terrifying Lord Guardian and had somehow engaged in what could only be described as an impromptu tea-making lecture.

Serena was sure you could run that situation again and again with every person in the Empire in Amelia's place, human or demon, and only in the case of Amelia would such a situation manifest. What a ridiculous girlfriend she had!

"You like it?" Amelia asked her.

"You're smiling."

"I—" Serena paused, clearing her throat.

"I like it." She took another small sip, savouring the powerful mintiness followed by the sensation of a firework display taking place in her throat.

"Ahem!" Serena lightly coughed.

"Now where was I…" Her eyes flicked to Menes as she remembered.

"Menes," Serena began.

"As much as I'd love to spend time exploring Ishaq's hot springs with you, I would much rather settle this here and now. I've spoken to Acting-Captain Voss, and he's been rather forward with me regarding you, telling me of your… intellectual prowess."

"Mmm," Menes replied, saying nothing further.

"You're smarter than you look, Menes, which is why I know that you know I won't be sharing any of Miss Liona's secrets with you, or the nature of her deployment, should one exist beyond what I have already explained to you. Therefore…" Serena trailed off, momentarily trying to get a sense of Menes' thoughts through his eyes.

"... There is only one logical way to settle this. What do you want, in exchange for keeping your horns out of mine or Miss Liona's business, and to keep your lips sealed for the duration we're in Ishaq and the rest of the South?" This was the conclusion Serena's mind had come to throughout their brief conversation. Menes was, unfortunately for her, a Cascadian Lord of the same rank as she was. He even possessed the same military title of Captain.

While he was on Serena's ship, the military law that dictated he had to obey her every word was tenuous at best, considering his Cascadian Lordship. Things were further complicated due to the fact that Serena was publicly under the Eastern Admiralty, but secretly operating under Centralis Intelligence, and Menes himself was under the command of the Southern Admiralty. Trying to force her will upon Menes would open a diplomatic storm she didn't want to have to navigate through.

Of course, if it came to truly locking horns with the man, Serena would be willing to use force. That was, however, the last resort. A fight that wasn't mutual, but one of her enforcing her will on him, would have ramifications for her family and her upcoming promotion to commodore. Menes held her eyes for several seconds before asking quietly, "How long will you be in Ishaq?"

"... I don't know."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

"Hmm…" Menes tilted his head down, his eyes closed and his forehead creased. He stayed like that for half a dozen seconds, deep in thought. Then, at some hidden cue, he raised his head and said, "I shall keep my silence on two conditions, my sayyidah." Serena didn't say anything, only nodding for him to continue.

"Firstly, you must both stay at my estate in Ishaq," Menes said.

"So I can keep an eye on you both. But do not worry, I will not put you in cages like you have done to me." Menes met Serena's eyes and, for the first time, she felt a tinge of guilt over her treatment of the man.

"I will give you the finest rooms, and cook you the finest food. You will drink Relik loqua and gorge on the most tender of meats. By the end of your stay, you will be begging me to stay. I promise you this."

"... And the other condition?" Serena asked, trying not to notice the fact that Amelia was drooling slightly.

"My other condition…" Menes took a few breaths, as if he was finding it painful to continue speaking.

"My other condition is that Miss Liona uses her magic to repair the minds of all those that occupy Ishaq's opium dens, and frees them of their reliance on the rotting thoughts that keep them there." Serena clicked her tongue.

"That would defeat the purpose of her disguise, wouldn't it, Menes? How will you explain that to Ishaq's population? You'd be announcing to the entire world that Amelia was there, and once you do, there'll be a storm brewing, originating from every population centre in the Empire as Ishaq is swarmed."

"Can she not… be discreet?" Menes asked, glancing at Amelia before turning his gaze back to Serena. Serena felt herself grimace." Discretion is… not exactly the right word to use when it comes to Miss Liona," Serena said. She kept looking at Menes, but she could already see Amelia's cheeks start to enlarge in what would unmistakably become an adorable pout.

"There is a festival, my sayyidah," Menes said, his expression serious.

"One with loud music, many drinks, and many, many colourful kites and fireworks. I believe it could be done… discreetly. If timed well."

"Festival?" Serena queried, narrowing her eyes.

"Festival!?" Amelia asked with wide eyes, her cheeks no longer puffed.

"What festival!?"

"In only a few weeks, the New Year Arcwhale Festival will take place. It is a great day, that marks the arcwhales' migration to the north."

"You celebrate such a thing?" Serena asked.

"Is it a religious holiday?" She knew that the Urda religion Menes followed viewed Rhaknam as one of the children of the Empress.

"Eh…" Menes raised a hand, wobbling it in the air.

"It's more of an excuse to share gifts and kindness. We do not have Christmas in Ishaq, so this is our replacement. We even make arcwhales out of paper and fill them with sweets. Then the little horns try to smash them open with sticks." Menes chuckled, continuing, "It's a fun sight to see, my sayyidah." What a strange tradition, Serena thought. The South is so different from the East.

"It's possible…" Serena said slowly, casting an eye at Amelia, who nodded eagerly in response.

"I'll do it!" Amelia said definitely.

"I want to heal them! PTS— I mean, the shakes are a serious problem. Can we also make sure the injured demons in the medical wing are nearby when I do it? I want to make sure they get their horns back! And if you have any areas of poverty, they have to be allowed to come as well!" She has a heart of gold, doesn't she? Serena thought, feeling herself swell with appreciation and pride. Facing Menes, she said, "I can't guarantee we're staying until the festival. We may have to leave. Our schedule isn't set in stone."

"Then, in that case, I will only hold you to the first condition, my sayyidah," Menes said, tilting his head.

"And I will do everything in my power as a Sayyid to enact your terms, my anisa."

"You've become rather amenable, haven't you?" Serena said with a frown.

"Won't Ishaq's treasury lose a large amount of its revenue if the demand for opium drops?"

"... Some things are more important than money," Menes said, his voice becoming rather quiet. It was then that Serena suspected that the Arakian might have a painful connection with the opium industry—a reason to want to shut it down.

"Very well," Serena held out her hand.

"Do we have an accord, then, Sayyid Bastet?" Menes took her hand into his own, giving her a firm shake. He didn't try to crush her hand like some men had tried to in her past; instead, he shook her hand with a sense of mutual acceptance and cooperation.

"We have an accord, Lord Halen of the East." The Arakian then turned and shook Amelia's hand, his expression serious and, if Serena wasn't mistaken, one of gratitude. Watching them, Serena took another sip of the firemint tea. As her throat erupted in celebration, she felt the knot in her stomach finally unravel. It was then that she knew, somehow, that she would face no further problem in the Passage.

Whatever chaos there was to come regarding pirates or arcwhales and whatever else, it would have to wait until the Vengeance was docked in Ishaq. After all, it wasn't like they'd get into more trouble the moment they made port. Right? After exchanging some final words, Menes made a final gesture of respect to Anathor's moose head. By this time, the Arakian had figured out that Anathor mostly spoke through the stuffed heads of various animals dotted around the ship.

He spoke a short prayer in Hakian before exiting Serena's quarters. Amelia gave Serena a cheerful wave and went to follow him.

"And where do you think you're going, Miss Liona?" Serena intoned, folding her arms and leaning against her desk.

"Uh…" Amelia giggled and scratched her nose.

"Was going to see if Hillbrand needed any help." Serena sighed.

"You're going to play with Romulus, aren't you?"

"Mmm!" Amelia flashed her a thumbs up.

"Want to come?"

"I might drop by once I've finished with all this." Serena nodded to the many forms that were still waiting to be filled out.

"But before you go…"

"Mmm?"

"Could you kindly"—Serena tilted her horns towards Amelia—"undo these damn knots." It only took a moment before Amelia burst out with laughter. And another for Serena to join in.