Emick slammed the metal door closed, despite the resistance of the Ravine’s raging gales. Sighing a cold breath, he brushed his hood from his head. He noticed a few differences in the room that he’d become so familiar with the last few years, it almost felt like a second home.
Emick had been in this office no less than once every four days for the last three years, save this last week, and he could tell any minor change in its setting the moment he entered.
Two of the normal flight schedules usually hung on the wall were missing. He stepped up to examine the other framed listings. Ships like The Scarlet Eagle, The Inexorable Warship, and The Veteran. But no mention of The Valiant Banneret.
“You’ve got two minutes, so make it quick.” Balr said, his eyes locked on a stack of papers on his desk.
Less than half the usual. “Very well.” Emick said, surveying the room for other abnormalities. All along the back wall, boxes were stacked neatly and draped with a cloth to appear like another wall, but it wasn’t too convincing, as the walls were made of stone and brick, held together with mortar, as oppose to this wrinkly, beige fabric.
“Balr,” Emick began, “Has something happened to the Valiant Banneret?” Another difference. Balr’s desk was extremely cluttered. More than usual, that is. Three tall stacks of documents sat on it, with six ink vials decorating the desk’s edges. It took three candles to illuminate the whole desk, with the thick piles of paperwork obscuring the light. Each candlestick was coated in melted wax.
“Once a year the ship captains get to take their boats out on a cruise with the crew, for their own relaxation. Captain Xelo’s week of vacation starts today—one hour from now, actually.”
Emick nodded. He had been a passenger aboard the Valiant Banneret so many times, he grew attached to it. But today, he’d have to get tickets for another cruise. It felt wrong just thinking about it. Would it be betrayal to ride another ship? It felt like it.
The young man stopped, looking curiously at Balr, “Every captain does that every year, huh?”
“They’re each allowed to, yes.” Balr’s tone implied his degrading patience.
“But Captain Xelo has never done so, has he? Because I don’t ever remember him taking a week-long trip.”
“Xelo has never been interested in shore leave. However, last week he requested his first vacation in ten years of service. We gave it to him as early as we could without disrupting the already appointed schedule.”
Emick held his tongue. He had to keep Balr talking without irritating him to the point of being thrown out. He dug in his pocket for a netted sack of blue sand, tossing it onto the largest paper stack. “I’ll take two for the Scarlet Eagle.”
Balr just stared at the bag for a second, before returning to his papers, saying “The Eagle costs more than you’re used to, Emick. Not to mention prices have gone up since you were here last. Five more for each ticket.”
“Five more!” Emick burst out. “In a week? That’s outrageous. I’ll give you two.”
“Emick,” Balr kept his voice even, “This is non-negotiable. I don’t make the prices, I just collect on them. Five more or no tickets.”
Reluctantly, Emick reached into his cloak pocket and removed another bag of blue sand, worth ten. He gently set it next to the larger bag of twelve. His eyes stayed focused on Balr suspiciously. The world was filled with swindlers and cheats, he had to search the docking officer’s eyes to know whether he was laying or not.
