Battles on deck

An hour had passed since The Windbreaker set sail, and Reynar was in hell.

Crammed inside a barrel in the ship's cargo hold, he felt like his insides were being tossed around in a storm. Cold sweat dripped down his face, his stomach twisted in knots, and every little sway of the ship made him want to crawl out of his own skin.

"I can't… take this anymore," he croaked, forehead pressed against the wooden side of the barrel.

"Yes, you can," Eris hissed from the barrel next to him. "Just shut up and hold it together."

Reynar let out a weak groan. "I think I left my soul back on land."

"Good. Maybe now you'll stop whining."

Reynar opened his mouth to protest—but suddenly, his entire body lurched forward as his barrel tipped. Before he could react, the lid popped off, and he tumbled out like a sack of potatoes, landing flat on the cold wooden floor.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then—

"...Did that barrel just spit out a person?"

Reynar groaned, eyes half-lidded as he slowly lifted his head. A group of sailors stood a few feet away, staring at him like he was some kind of sea monster.

"Uh," he rasped. "Hey."

One of the men, a big guy with a beard thick enough to catch food in, took a step closer. "The hell are you?"

Reynar tried to sit up but immediately regretted it. "I, uh… am just a very seasick passenger—"

"Stowaway," another sailor muttered.

"Yeah," the bearded guy grunted. "And we all know what happens to stowaways."

Reynar swallowed. "Do we? Because I feel like there's room for negotiation here."

The third sailor, an old man with an eye patch, cracked his knuckles. "You know what we do with rats, boy?"

Reynar let out a nervous laugh. "Eeee…you're giving them food??? No?"

The bearded guy smirked. "Nah. We toss 'em overboard."

Reynar said in frustration, "Yeah… I thought so. But we can—"

Before he could finish, a loud crack rang out as the lid of the second barrel exploded off.

Eris climbed out in one smooth motion, landing between him and the sailors. She dusted herself off, then flicked her gaze up to the men, completely unfazed.

"Finally," she sighed. "I was getting sick of listening to him complain."

The scrawny sailor's jaw dropped. "There was two of 'em?!"

The bearded guy scowled. "Doesn't matter. You're both dead meat."

Eris rolled her shoulders, cracking her neck. "I don't think so."

Before any of them could react, she lunged.

She grabbed the scrawny guy's wrist and twisted, making him yelp and drop the knife he was reaching for. Then, with a swift pivot, she drove her fist into the bearded guy's gut, sending him stumbling back.

Eye Patch barely had time to react before she slammed a kick into his chest, knocking him into a stack of crates. He hit the ground with a groan, his flask rolling out of his grip.

Eris exhaled sharply, then turned to Reynar, who was still sprawled on the floor like a dying fish.

She crossed her arms. "Wow. Really impressive showing from you."

Reynar barely managed to lift a hand. "I would've helped, but, uh…" He weakly gestured at himself. "I am… a little occupied with suffering."

Eris rolled her eyes, grabbed him by the back of his shirt, and started dragging him toward the exit.

"Come on, deadweight. Let's get out of here before more show up."

Reynar let out a feeble whimper. "Land. I miss land."

"Yeah, well, too bad. We're on a boat now."

As they made their escape, the three sailors groaned from the floor, contemplating whether they'd ever pick a fight with a stowaway again. 

The two of them climbed the nearest stairway, reaching a hatch that led to the deck. Eris pushed it open, and for a brief, glorious moment, Reynar was met with fresh air. The vast, endless blue of the sky stretched above them, the sea shimmering under the sunlight. Freedom. Finally.

…And then he noticed the dozen sailors staring at them.

There was a long, awkward silence. A breeze rolled across the deck. Somewhere in the distance, a seagull cried out.

Reynar swallowed hard. "Sooo… this was a bad idea, wasn't it?"

Eris didn't even look at him. "No. This was the dumbest idea I've ever had in my entire life."

Reynar blinked. "Okay… that means I wasn't the stupid one here."

The sailors started moving. Some reached for weapons. Others cracked their knuckles. The ship rocked slightly, and Reynar's stomach twisted with it.

Then, the shouting started.

"Stowaways!"

"Who the hell are these brats?!"

"Get 'em!"

Reynar was barely standing, his stomach twisting like the ship itself was personally out to get him. He felt the sweat on his forehead, the dizziness clouding his vision. If he had to fight like this—

Oh. Right. He couldn't.

The first sailor—a tower of muscle with a busted nose—lunged straight for him. "You're dead, kid!"

Reynar tried to move. Really, he did. But his body betrayed him, swaying uselessly as he nearly collapsed.

The punch was coming. He saw it. He couldn't dodge.

Then, just before impact—

CRACK.

Eris's foot collided with the sailor's jaw, sending him spinning midair before slamming onto the deck, motionless. She landed smoothly, flipping her hair back. "You're welcome."

Reynar groaned. "Please… kill me."

"Later. First, survive."

More sailors charged in. Eris didn't hesitate. She ducked beneath a swinging club, drove her elbow into a man's ribs, then spun and delivered a brutal kick to his knee, making him crumble. Another rushed her from behind—she caught sight of him in her peripheral vision and sidestepped just in time, grabbing his wrist and twisting until something popped.

The guy screamed.

She slammed his face against a crate, knocking him out cold.

But there were too many.

Another sailor—short, stocky, and mean-looking—lunged at her with a dagger. Eris barely dodged in time, the blade slicing a few strands of her hair. She gritted her teeth. "Tch—annoying."

The guy smirked. "Let's see if you can dodge this."

He rushed in with a flurry of quick, precise slashes. Eris weaved through them, but the ship's rocking made it harder to stay balanced. One cut nicked her arm, and she hissed in pain.

Reynar, watching helplessly, grimaced. "Okay, okay… you got this, Eris! Just—ah, never mind, that looked painful."

Eris glared at him. "If you're not gonna help, at least shut up!"

Before the dagger-wielding sailor could land another strike, she ducked low and drove her fist into his stomach with all the force she could muster. He let out a choked gasp, eyes bulging.

Then, she grabbed his collar and yanked him forward, slamming her forehead into his face.

The crack of his nose breaking was sickening.

He dropped like a sack of bricks.

The deck was chaos now—more sailors joining in, some climbing down from the rigging. One of them locked eyes with Reynar, grinned, and cracked his knuckles. "You. Sick boy. You're next."

Reynar tried to raise his sword. Failed. "Listen, man, I can't even stand right now—"

The sailor ignored him and raised his hammer.

Reynar braced for impact.

Then—

A blur of motion. The man suddenly stopped, eyes going wide. A quiet gasp escaped his lips before he crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

Behind him, Eris lowered her fist.

"Not happening," she growled, twisting his arm in one clean motion. The man screamed as his elbow bent in a way it absolutely wasn't supposed to.

Then she turned to Reynar, eyes blazing. "Are you seriously just standing there?"

"Technically, I'm barely standing. But I had it under control!"

Eris scoffed. "Sure. And I'm a noble princess."

Eris, then turned back to the mess of sailors still surrounding them. There were at least a dozen left, and they weren't happy.

"Alright," she muttered, cracking her knuckles. "Who's next?"

The fight wasn't over yet. Not even close.

The sailors were closing in. There were too many now. Eris couldn't take them all on one by one anymore. She needed something else. Something more.

Her hand brushed against the hidden pouch in her clothes, fingers curling around something cold and smooth—a black crystal.

Eris didn't hesitate. With a swift motion, she pressed the crystal with her fingers, muttering something in a language Reynar couldn't understand. The words were sharp, a string of strange symbols that felt ancient, forbidden. It sounded like she was summoning something beyond comprehension.

"@$%!#%!@$#."

In an instant, the crystal cracked in her hand, and a suffocating mist exploded outward, enveloping the entire ship in an eerie haze. It twisted and spiraled like an alive thing, wrapping around the sails, the rigging, and most terrifyingly, the people on deck. The air became thick, heavy, almost alive.

Reynar blinked, trying to clear his vision, but nothing worked. The mist was too dense. He could hear the shouts of sailors and the clash of steel, but everything felt distant. His stomach turned, his legs unsteady as the familiar wave of motion sickness hit him, amplified by the confusion.

"What the hell…?" he muttered, raising his sword in an attempt to swing at something, anything. But the darkness around him was impenetrable. He could only hear slashing, like a thousand swords cutting through the air at once.

It wasn't long before the sounds of battle seemed to vanish, leaving only the sharp crack of blades and the faintest echo of gasps. His heart raced as he stumbled through the mist, trying to regain some sense of control.

And then, as quickly as it had come, the mist started to lift.

The ship slowly came into focus, but what Reynar saw made his blood run cold.

The sailors were all dead. No one moved. No one breathed. Their bodies lay sprawled across the deck, blood pooling beneath them, staining the wood. They hadn't stood a chance.

Reynar's eyes darted to where Eris stood, calm and untouched, as if she were standing in the middle of a nightmare she'd created. But what stopped him in his tracks wasn't just the carnage—it was her eyes.

They were black. No, deeper than black.

And as he blinked, they shifted. White. Pure white.

Reynar's breath caught in his throat. His head swam as he tried to make sense of what had just happened, but the sight of Eris' eyes—so strange, so unnatural—left him speechless. His vision flickered. It had to be a trick of the light, his mind overloading from the battle.

But before he could question it any further, Eris moved, stepping over the fallen sailors like they were nothing. She glanced at Reynar, her expression unreadable.

"Are you going to stand there all day? Come on" she asked, her tone as casual as ever, as if nothing at all had happened.

Reynar shook his head, trying to clear the fog in his mind. "Yeah… sure," he mumbled, his voice a little unsteady.

As they walked past the lifeless bodies, he couldn't shake the image of her eyes—black, then white—and the strange power she had just unleashed. He had no idea what was going on, but he knew one thing: Eris was hiding something far more dangerous than he could ever have imagined.

And that terrified him.

An hour passed since the mess on deck.

Eris stood at the helm, hands steady on the wheel, steering the ship toward the distant shores of the Nasar Kingdom. Reynar, half-dead from the constant sway, clung to the mast like a drowning man desperate for air, eyes fixed on the horizon.

The ship swayed again, and Reynar's stomach churned.

Ugh, I can't take this anymore! The shaking… Bruaaaah! Damn it! Why did I pick a ship?! I could've walked, at least then I'd be fine! Every minute feels like a nightmare.

His eyes narrowed as he turned to Eris, barely able to hold his words together.

"DO YOU... KNOW HOW TO NAVIGATE?!" His voice cracked, a mixture of desperation and nausea.

"YES," she snapped, her tone like the cold edge of a blade.

"OH REALLY?! WHEN DID... YOU LEARN?!" Reynar couldn't help but shout, voice wavering as another wave tossed the ship.

"AT THE—" 

"WHAT?!" Reynar nearly lost his grip as the ship rocked again.

"FROM WHEN I WAS A KID!" 

"OH REALLY?! THEN PLEASE DON'T GET US LOST!!!" Reynar shouted, clinging tighter to the mast as if it would keep him from falling apart.

"SHUT UP, YOU IDIOT!" Eris didn't even look at him, her gaze cold as steel. She was holding something back—more than just frustration. Reynar could feel it, though he didn't understand it. The storm in her eyes was something he couldn't touch, but he knew it was there.

Reynar couldn't stand the relentless rocking of the ship any longer. So he decided to get off. Reynar barely managed to get off the mast. The ship rocked violently beneath him and every step felt like it was his last. He gripped the ropes, his muscles straining with every movement, but somehow, he reached the stairs. With great effort, he descended, each step more painful than the last, until he finally reached the deck.

He staggered toward the stern, where Eris stood at the helm. As he climbed the stairs that connected the helm to the main deck, his tired eyes fell on her.

"What? Do you want something?" Eris asked, not bothering to look up.

"Yeah, I have a question for you," Reynar muttered, trying to catch his breath.

Eris raised an eyebrow but said nothing, waiting.

Reynar paused for a moment, then asked, "What was that thing back there? The black mist."

Eris looked at him, a slight frown creasing her brow. "Don't you know?"

"What? Do I need to know?"

Eris sighed in frustration, tapping her forehead with her fingers. "Of COURSE not. Why did I think you'd know anything? You're a real idiot."

"Hey!" Reynar snapped, irritated. "Stop calling me that and just answer the question."

"Look, you idiot. What i did before is called a spell, and---"

From this moment Eris started to explain to me what a spell was and what she did back then.

First of all:

A spell is a controlled use of supernatural energy to achieve a desired effect, often requiring incantations, gestures, or focus.

There are diferent types of spells:

Verbal Spells – Require spoken words.

Gestural Spells – Cast using hand movements or magic circles.

Mental Spells – Activated through pure willpower and concentration.

Item-Based Spells – Require objects like wands, staffs, or runes.

Elemental Spells – Harness fire, water, air, earth, or other natural forces.

Forbidden Spells – Extremely powerful and often come with consequences.

Eris also mentioned that some people, if powerful enough, could cast spells without any words, gestures, or tools—relying purely on their innate strength.

The spell Eris casted was a mix of item-based and verbal. It required a black thorn crystal and a phrase of an ancient language. "Noctis umbra, caligo oriri" which means: Night's shadow, arise as the mist.

As the sun set and the sky turned dark, silence took over the ship. The waves softly rocked the boat, and the exhaustion of the day settled in. Reynar and Eris, both drained, leaned back and closed their eyes, the ship's gentle sway soon lulling them to sleep.