Breaking Utopia

Chapter Five | The Weeping Jade

Icicles formed on the masts of the ship. The sailors of the ship called The Weeping Jade shivered as they pulled the ropes and swept the deck of any ice that formed along it. The Quartermaster known as Goborn looked across the ship from the Quarterdeck feeling the winds of the Eastern Sea growing colder the closer the Weeping Jade came to the Severosian Isle. A week had passed since his captain drunkenly accepted Advisor Hushtone's job offer. "Travel to the Severosian Isle and make sure accept the Arkins terms." At the time, Goborn nor his captain knew what those terms were, and he was quite certain Captain Nard Marx had no idea still. Yet as the good bookkeeper and Quartermaster Eli Goborn was, he looked over all the paperwork after Captain Marx sloppily shook hands and clinked cups with Advisor Hushtone.

What he read astonished him. Another war. Another bloodthirsty fight for the heart of Allkline. And this ship, this crew, this captain even was to be the harbingers of the bloodied axes and gun smoke.

"You understand all this Marx?" The Quartermaster asked shuffling around the captain's quarters like a hyperactive ship rat.

"For the millionth time, Goborn, yes. Go to the place, make the big wigs agree to be a collaboration of big wigs. It's all honestly pretty under me, really." Captain Marx said, rubbing his temples and closing his eyes trying to block out the anxious weasel-looking quartermaster from drilling deeper into his already aching mind.

"Under you? Sir, do you not understand how paramount this is? How dangerous and how historic?"

"Goborn..."

"No, non-Severosian ever makes it past The Pass alive! If we did, which is a highly illogical probability we would then have to convince each tribe not to murder us on sight, and even after that-"

"Goborn..." Nard Marx said increasingly annoyed. His temples grew red and raw as he tried to subdue the pain growing in his head.

"Even in the wildest outcome, there the abhorrent task of trying to convince bloodthirsty warlords to join as one with the entirely different nation? I mean, what have we gotten ourselves into? Really, its-"

"Goborn!" The captain finally had his full of the rambling fearful bookkeep. "Relax your fluttering lips please." he said with exhaustion, giving the Arkin a pitiful look. "It'll all go as planned, like I always say, right?"

"Yes, but you have no pl-" Marx cut off his twitchy quartermaster before his hangover got any worse and used his finger to direct him to the door back to the deck.

"Part of the plan" He whispered with a nod to the door and a facetious smile. The Quartermaster let out a frustrated sigh and retreated to the open air of the deck.

When Goborn first met the Salkavien Captain like many he was mesmerized by his silver tongue and led astray from the Arkin Administration. Eli grew up with a determination and fire inside to understand all walks of life, to build upon the foundations of the Arkin Republic. Goborn, unlike many in the Republic, was a student of history. Although much of the archives were either locked deep away inside the Kantara's many labyrinthian catacombs, or completely rewritten, Goborn was a student of what he could know and what he did know was he wanted to help build a better Republic.

The Republic came from the Arm of Scion, a large-scale repopulation mission from the vaults to the surface. In Eli's findings the Arm of Scion were ruthless. The only ones allowed to wield weapons they took full charge of the waif they guided through the new world. It was the Arm that founded Huxwell, and in the first years ran it as a camp, having the people of the below mine through the old-world goods and building the large wall that stands today. They followed in the footsteps of their elders, of the central city that helped create this world.