The Driftwood Dragon

Unanswered Questions

Alice's P.O.V.

The mess hall/meeting room is dead silent.

Charles is seated at the head of the long mahogany table. Sirena sits to his right, and I to his left. Robin sits next to me, and Peter across from her.

Everyone is waiting for another to speak. No one knows how to respond to something like what we have just witnessed. Robin is the only one of us from second realm, so we take her word as fact that what we just faced is not from our world.

Charles speaks up, taking charge of the situation as captain.

"What do you think that armor was made of, Robin?"

"I'd need to study it. I can't be entirely sure of what it is until then." She replies.

I look around the table. Every face is contorted with unease, just as I assume mine must look right now.

"What do we do from here Alice?" Charles asks me. "You're foreign relations, and this most certainly qualifies."

Everyone's heads turn to me.

"Yes I suppose it does." I say quietly. "Lets go have a chat with him then, shall we?"

We all rise, quickly exit the room, and descend the stairs to the holding cells. I walk into the musty, dimly lit room and prop my staff up against the wall. There are two chairs, one of which is occupied by the stiff body of a hulking man, his neck limp and his eyes rolled back into his head. His arms are secured to the chair at the wrists and his legs at the ankles. I sit down across from him and the rest of the crew shuffles in behind me.

"Sirena, could you wake him up please?" I ask politely.

"Of course." She replies swiftly. She glares at the frozen stuff body and, in a moment, it jerks upright and its eyes roll back to where they belong.

He struggles for a few moments before hanging his head weakly.

"Of what vessel am I aboard?" He murmurs.

"The Driftwood Dragon." I reply.

His head snaps up and he locks eyes with me.

"I wish to speak with your captain." He states.

"That would be me." Charles says, stepping forward.

"Charles Séöna?" He asks. Charles nods. "I believe we may have some things to talk about."

"You may speak with our foreign relations specialist unless permitted otherwise by her." Charles replies, gesturing to me.

The man turns his head back to me. "Will you allow me to speak with your captain alone?"

"Not yet." I reply swiftly. "You and Sirena should have a chat first. I've a feeling you'll keep your secrets as best you can anyways, so we may as well start a bit forcefully." I nod to Sirena as I stand to leave. Peter and Robin shuffle out, but before Charles follows I hear the man behind me say something I couldn't quite hear.

Charles stops dead, still staring through the doorway. He turns round slowly to meet the gaze of the man.

"Excuse me?" Charles asks with an air of deadly sternness.

"Slífon rists." The man says in a language I do not recognize, a smirk on his face.

Charles looks as though dead.

"What does that mean sir?" I ask Charles.

"It means that perhaps it would be best he and I speak before Sirena." Charles states dryly.