As the sun perched over the horizon, spreading its rays of glory, mountain wind rolled down steep cliffs. A simple, brown and thin trench-coat billowed in its gale unbuttoned; Quies held his hands in its pockets. Within that thick pocket of the coat, a multitude of different coins rustled as he walked. Two pristine silver coins collided with six made of fine bronze, then those collided with nine made out of cheap, rusted iron. They felt rough to the touch.
Underneath, Quies still wore his old tunic. He figured that his lightarmor would still do a great job at defending him from any threats. He didn't want to spend more money on something he wouldn't need.
'I still have to wash it… would I have time to?'
In actuality, the trip time from island to island wasn't very long. One could sail from Etris to Erisia in less than 12 minutes with good conditions. The distance from the Isle of Vigil to Erisia was even shorter. On a day with thin fog, you could even see the edges of Erisia's lower shores from the docks of Vigil. The only reason Valerie had taken a whole night to travel to Etris from the Isle of Vigil was because she parked the boat in the middle of the ocean to sleep! Oh, and also do some training with Quies, but…
Quies continued his flow of blood throughout his body. Today, his control over Blood Enhancement felt slightly clearer, and it was bound to improve as long as he continued training with his tourniquet. Last night, with his extra time, he was able to get some training in.
His fingers fiddled with a small pen he got from the room of his inn—his thoughts continued to swirl. The ink… it must've been sorted from some exotic animal…
He descended the stairs—maybe for the last time—and looked towards the golden sea of the Etrean kingdom. Its tranquil waves crashed against the short bluffs of the Vigil overlook, spraying salty water upwards.
"You ready?"
A masked shipwright spoke from beside Quies as he walked into the docks of the Isle of Vigil.
"Everything… should be sorted. The inn, my gear…"
"You sound unsure, Quies."
"Of course I sound unsure… Being sure is a luxury nobody can afford."
"Geez, I didn't know you were so wise, old man!"
Quies ignored his sarcasm. Indeed, certainty was a rarity in a world like Lumen. Major events appear out of nowhere, so the people adapted to become just as fickle as their world.
He hopped off the overlooking surface of the dock and onto a small schooner.
On the deck, he meticulously went through every process necessary to prepare a ship to go sailing. Garrett the shipwright had taught him most of the new things he needed to learn yesterday, since he wasn't used to sailing ships like this, though the process was similar.
In case he forgot any of the steps, though, the shipwright was watching over him from above with a calm gaze.
His fingers trembled as the sails caught the breeze, slowly propelling the ship forward. It was a slightly foggy day today, so he had to navigate through intuition for a short stretch—before Erisia became visible. Luckily, the path from the Isle of Vigil to Erisia was just a straight line.
The front of the small schooner, steadfast in its presence, sliced through the Etrean waters, slightly swaying up and down. Sails billowed—the wind blew partly from behind.
'Its… done.'
Quies was off.
He was off to Erisia to find the Forge of Sin.
He glanced back towards the, now mostly empty, dock. There, he could see the masked shipwright turn around and sit down in his usual chair, enjoying the panoramic view that laid in front of him. To him, Quies was just another sailor who needed a little help to get going.
He saw the trees as they shed their autumn leaves. The first time he came to this island, the trees were almost fully auburn. Now, their colors began to disappear. Behind all of the structures and nature, the ominous cliff stood proudly. It might not be as tall as, say, the peaks of Upper Erisia, but it stood with hubris nonetheless.
Quies turned away. He no longer looked behind.
He lifted his head up, basking in the amber glory of the morning sun. He could feel little particles of water drizzle on his face. Hesitantly, a calm, tranquil smile widened on his face.
In the future, Quies was sure to return to the Isle of Vigil.
One day, he would return.
But he would not return the same man.
Not his mind, not his soul, not his mortal body of flesh and blood would bear a resemblance to the current. His bearing would be different, his values would have shifted like the uncontrollable tides of Lumen. Yes, he would return…
…But he would return only when mercy decided to spare him.
Feeling the cold breeze caress his face, Quies' smile grew wider.
***
An ominous hooded man knelt before a coral throne. White hair cascaded down the grand construct. A pale white hand lingered ominously above the hooded man's head.
"Then you are bound to me… contractor. You are my string, one of many…"
Black tendrils extended from the pale hand's fingertips. Then, in a sudden burst of speed, they embedded themselves within the hooded man's incorporeal soul, leaving a faint appearance of fading, colorless strings on his limbs and joints.
He winced at the temporary pain, but it was for… what did he do this for again?
"Eternally tied to me, you shall serve under my will."
No matter.
As the pale hand closed into a fist the hooded contractor's body tensed and jerked into an upright position.
"Now, go clean up the mess she forgot about. I won't tell you twice."
The hand swiped across the air. The body of the hooded man loosened as the hand retracted back towards the shadow. Following his master's order, he lowered onto one of his knees.
The shadows around him deepened—crawling towards the hooded man. They trembled as they shrouded the contractor's body, turning it into a lightless silhouette of a man. Grasping onto his body, the shadows pulled the hooded contractor into their embrace—merging with the shadows beneath him.
A second later, he was gone.
Dissipating, the shadows trembled in the presence of Zi'eer.
He was the hand.
The hand of the puppeteer.