38. Waters of Cynicism
Waters of Cynicism
ROHEN
Standing on the main deck of the Bloodmarked, the expansion of our group became evident. Not too long ago, I had only been familiar with the broody captain who purchased me from Seirdra’s Veil, alongside his right hand, but now there were eight of us.
Leilani remained to my right, Alastair to hers.
The stern expressions they wore warned the crewmates responsible for shifting the sails.
Looks that pinned others with the fact that, while alliances had started to form, trust remained minimal.
They were a couple capable of reckoning, carrying the strength of an army and the deadliness of the most potent poison.
Arms folded across his chest, Syoran held his place on my left.
The breeze caught his light linen shirt, revealing the varying pommels of the swords he showcased on his hip.
Upturned eyes squinted because of the vibrant rays overhead, and he looked at the woman who had willingly betrayed the entire crew.
Sapphira dipped her chin as if in silent understanding, the inked swirls on her arms seeming to glow with hidden meaning.
Blowing out a breath, I glanced over briefly at Parran and Ignis.
The two stood shoulder to shoulder, forearms resting on the gunwale I’d tumbled over what felt like a century ago.
They’d served as our ferry to the other ship, but there was something about the way Ignis’ body tensed that hinted his preference, should opposition arise, had settled with Syoran.
Booted foot propped against the mast, Kael stood in observation for a breath longer before nudging himself from his post. Clad in a fresh shirt, unbuttoned to his mid-chest, he no longer appeared the frightened man I had hugged in the palace's ballroom. Five o’clock shadow thicker, its dark hue painted him in a new light—one that stressed all he’d lost, yet all he had become.
He wasn’t merely an obedient heir elected to straddle a throne.
No, he was the king of Serevalen, someone who demanded respect and could command continents if he wished.
“Differences aside,” Kael started, gesturing to the obvious line between the groups, “there is a looming war on the horizon and far more pertinent things to focus on.”
Craning his head to the side, Alastair offered him a smile. “Who is claiming difference?”
“You know exactly what you’re doing, Seridean, and considering my captain is on your ship, I would be mindful,” Syoran growled in warning, fingers gripping his biceps.
“Ironic, coming from the man whose captain is on my ship.” Striations danced over Alastair’s cheeks, the drastic shift I’d sensed in his demeanor surging to the forefront.
Glare intensifying, Caspian’s second snarled, “I did not invite you to set foot on your former friend’s ship to—”
“Right,” Alastair interrupted, his grin growing more taunting. “You called us over here to discuss sail routes, as well as your idea to charge into Serevalen headfirst. Tell me, Kao, do you not recall what happened the last time we set foot in the Capital?”
“For the love of the gods,” I spat, stepping from my position in our formed circle.
Kael moved to stop me, but I brushed him off.
With a quick side-step, I avoided his attempt to secure a hold on my shirt.
Not wasting a second, my palms met the gunwale, and with one shove, I hoisted myself onto it.
Below, the group barked in protest, Syoran the loudest among them after knowing what happened the last time I set foot on the upper edge of the ship.
“Rohen, if you don’t get the fuck—”
“Shut up!” The scream erupted from me, a powerful wave slamming against the hull in response.
Forced to grab one of the many ropes, I wound it around my hand and continued without missing a beat.
“The arrogance and abhorrence that coat all of you is sickening, especially considering all we’ve already achieved together.
You want to continue spewing hatred? Fine, waste each other’s time, because all I see are miserable people blaming their shortcomings on one another to make themselves feel better.
“You didn’t want anyone knowing you bathe in self-loathing?
Too bad, because you’re dripping with the waters of cynicism.
” Training my glare on both Syoran and Alastair, the words I wished to utter to every sanctimonious piece of meat that crossed my path as if he were worth remembering, tumbled from me.
“Neither of you is better than the other for what you are or aren’t able to supply to Caspian.
Your judge of character resides in the here and now, and as far as I’m fucking concerned, both of you are failing for being unable to cast the past aside and stand together for him. ”
Silence swathed the deck, and heads craned in my direction as the passerby crew members watched, a mix of horror and awe on their faces.
The former was a feeling I wish I could eradicate, one that had seeped through the planks beneath their feet in the form of spilled lineage and ceased livelihood.
I’d robbed them of people they’d once cherished, men who they’d grown to love and walk alongside as found family and promised future.
A throat cleared, Kael glancing between the others. “Well? She’s got you by your balls, gentlemen.”
Alastair peered up at me, but there wasn’t an ounce of frustration etched into his sharp features.
Instead, a glint of approval flickered in his eyes, and a soft, genuine smile crossed his lips.
“Apologies,” he stated, first to me before he shifted his attention to Syoran, “for being such a self-righteous bastard. I suppose you could say I’m a bit…
uneasy, which isn’t an excuse. Jaskor just offered me information, but not without cost.”
Head spinning toward him, Leilani’s brows fell in concern. “What do you mean?”
“The journals we have seem to contain fragments of the prophecy, pieces that do not paint the whole picture. While Caspian’s scroll and the notes he’s written have proved beneficial, paired with Ignis’ insight on the artifacts, there is still something we are missing.
” Combing his fingers through his hair, Alastair sighed heavily.
“When Jaskor spoke to me, he made it known that there are sacred texts, other journals that may point to some form of summoning. Perhaps one that involves all five of the artifacts we are seeking.”
“Which would be where?” Kael posed, looking to Syoran for a reply.
The captain’s second bit his bottom lip before loosening a breath filled with unease. “His chambers.”
“Do you have access to them?” Leilani asked, her mocha eyes flaring with newfound brightness.
Dipping his chin in reply, Syoran turned to me. “Would you get the fuck down, please?”
“Are you going to show them Caspian’s quarters?”
He nodded.
Not immediately satisfying his plea, I cast an unamused expression at Alastair.
“Rohen,” he prompted, but when I didn’t answer, he cocked a brow. “What?”
“Sailing?” Motioning toward Syoran, I added, “We have a trek to make, do we not?”
As if my continued judgment prompted the two Fae to engage, Parran pivoted.
The breeze tousled their white locks, weaving through the strands with a gracefulness only an ethereal creature could emanate.
Their matching freckles gleamed beneath the golden rays, contrasting against their periwinkle skin and highlighting their unquestionable beauty.
“I can teleport us there.”
Alastair’s retort was just as quick. “No.”
Annoyance clouded Parran’s cornflower eyes. “What? Why?”
“Because you’ve already used plenty of your power. With the restraints in place because of the corruption suffocating our lands, there is only so much I will take a chance on. And you are not one of those things, Parran.”
“I am well!” they argued, offense clinging to every syllable. “You do not need to discredit me and my capabilities—”
“I am doing no such thing,” Alastair growled, the sound in itself a warning.
“You have already brought both fleets back to Serevalen once. You will not do so again. Especially when we have an injured, invaluable man on board whom you are responsible for caring for.” Shaking his head, Alastair loosened the reins on his tonality.
“Parran, your healing abilities are priceless, something that not even the greatest treasure could replace. And, with us out in open waters, the very seas Ellira rules, there is no risk for innocents standing in the crossfire.”
“We are already a day into sailing. That only leaves three, and also allows Caspian time to recover and possibly wake up,” Syoran stated, picking up the conversation as if he and Alastair had planned it.
“I do not believe your captain is attempting to discredit you, so much as protect you from any potential negative outcomes of you overexerting yourself. He values you, Parran.”
Canine nibbling their bottom lip, Parran nodded. “Okay. I am sorry for questioning the intention; I just want to help wherever I am able.”
Jumping from the gunwale, my booted feet collided with the deck, but barely any sound followed.
“And you are,” I hummed, closing the distance to the towering Fae.
Settling a hand on their shoulder, I smiled gently.
“Thank you for taking care of Caspian and ensuring that he mends. I cannot express enough gratitude for your selflessness, and I will do all I can on my end to ensure you see your worth.”
The corners of their mouth curled, but I didn’t miss their subtle tremor. “Thank you. Your appreciation means a lot to me, Rohen.”
I bobbed my head as I rubbed their arm before pulling away. Turning to the others, I exchanged a knowing glance with Leilani before finding Alastair again. With a once-over, I moved to Sapphira, granting her an approving dip of my chin before finally finding Syoran.
“Never stop showing them who you are,” Ellira hummed in my subconscious, her presence brushing against the power I felt lurking beneath my skin. “My Daughter. The Heir to the throne that I rule. The soon-to-be Goddess of the Sea.”
“Well?” I questioned with a grin. “We have waters to sail, which gives us time to hunt for these sacred texts. What do you say, captain?”
Syoran returned my smile with one of his own, the tension once present in his body evaporating. “Lead the way, Daughter of Ellira.”