Eventide Scriptures I - The Shattering of an Era

Chapter 15 - The Shrouded Woman

Varne approached the deck railing, resting both hands on it, leaning forward, and vomiting.

"Ha ha ha, be thankful we'll soon land in Renfru," Ryse said, his elbows propped on the railing. He stood upwind to avoid Varne soiling his favorite jacket. "Face as white as yours is enough to scare a ghost."

"Curse you..." Varne sat back, leaning against the railing.

"How can a swordsman with such high balance get this seasick?" Rick pulled out an object the size of a bronze coin. "Chew this. It should help somewhat."

Upon biting into it, a sweet and slightly spicy taste filled Varne's mouth. Licorice root. Prana made his tolerance to poison much higher than regulars. However, it also diminished the efficacy of medicines, as Prana could not distinguish between desired and undesired effects. He deactivated his Prana to let the licorice root take effect.

"By the way," Ryse said, "What business brings you to the Isofean mainland? Leisure? Looking for a wife?"

"Mind your own business."

"Maybe I could help. My mentor and I are always on the road, so I'm quite knowledgeable."

His demeanor puzzled Varne. He was too... meddlesome. Lorn emphasized not standing out, so he never interfered in others' affairs. Ryse was the exact opposite.

He had assisted during a monster attack on the ship, even though the crew could have managed. He offered his medicine without hesitation to reduce the fever of a portly child the day before. He bandaged the navigator's torn leg, due to his own stupidity, with a medicated cloth. Such items should be used with more caution.

"I'm looking for a bastard named Margivaz."

"Margivaz? I know the name, but–"

Varne rose and gripped Ryse's shoulders. "You know him! Where is he!"

"Take it easy. First off, can you let go of my favorite jacket, please? Appreciate it. The Margivaz I knew has been long dead. Does yours have any distinguishing features?"

Varne described his appearance and ability to perform Transference.

"You sure? That's an unusual ability. Well, in that case, you should consider heading over to Orfia, the city of information. There–"

"Bah, useless."

"Sorry, I wish I could've helped you more." Ryse's brows furrowed like scolded puppy. His attitude always managed to irritate Varne, yet getting angry at him proved to be no easy task.

"Varn, look, there's the Renfru's lighthouse!"

Ryse's pupils dilated despite the bright sunlight. He was using Prana to sharpen his vision. Varne did the same, and the black dot against the sky unfolded into various distinct details.

A concave white beach interrupted the winding line of rocks stretching from west to east. Renfru's military and civilian harbors lay adjacent on this beach, enclosed by iron stakes. Chains hung from one stake to another, providing protection to the harbors.

A bit north of the beach was a gentle cliff. Trees with reddening leaves speckled the face of the cliff and three ascending paths sliced through it, leading to the city wall. The grand Renfru lighthouse protruded from the middle of the city, dwarfing the guard towers.

Their ship veered away from the military harbor towards the civilian one. Dozens of warships were moored in the military harbor, their sails furled, making their masts resemble trees in autumn. Barracks and armories lined up like soldiers expecting cavalry charge at the base of the cliff.