NOVEL SIMPLE Chapter-122 Set Sail
Down in the basement, in his practice room.
The loot from his kills piled before him. Spellbooks, ‘Identify’ databases, Novas coins, Anima Crystals, Astylind Cores, random materials and ingredients, hub connectors that didn’t connect to any shops or warehouses, and some common weapons. That was all Ewan found after he finally organized the gain. He put the regular resources aside and focused on the databases. His own database from the inheritance was extensive and rarely failed him. But it had been years since anyone updated it. Even if his Pa did before he died, that was still more than seven years ago.
Information was an ever-growing and an ever-changing entity. Even the best databases would stale if it stilled against time.
And so, Ewan waded through the collection he got and noted down any strokes that could supplement his own <Identify> in a new diary. Optimization was essential for such foundational spells, so he didn’t just cram this additional information to his own database.
For the first stage, he drew several circuits by instinct—each with a different way of adding all the new information to his own database. The second stage was testing them out for efficiency and errors, one by one. It was a time-consuming task though, and when he checked for daybreak, the hour of voyage was nigh. So, he crammed his claw-ring with everything essential that he couldn’t leave behind, kept everything non-essential in the villa because of a lack of space, and left for the dock—that was where he would meet Kiev. The issue of databases was for when he would return.
……
He strolled the streets, his hands in his onyx-cargo pockets, breathing in the fresh morning air, his open ivory-sweatshirt over his faded-black t-shirt flapping with the wind. The sweepers watered and broomed the streets, yawning and rubbing their eyes; the kids hired for advertising ran around with coarse pamphlets of restaurants and shops, tossing them in everyone’s yard; the night watchers returned from their duties, most slouching and some dozing off on their feet.
“This month’s print! This month’s print!” A man in a pale cassock yelled on the side of the street and handed a booklet to whoever passed him, or at least he tried to. “May the lord bring a smile to your face,” he said to whoever took his booklet.
This man was a priest. What kind of religion was taking root in this city? Ewan wondered. The lack of walls kept the Kyrons’ death rate high all year long. It was the kind of spark that turned Drarith into a fertile ground for religions. The promise of solace and salvation sprinkled with an assurance of protection, the idea wasn’t hard to sell to those who verged on utter despair.
Constant wars and skirmishes embroiled the city, and it brought desperation with it—if the Governor didn’t rein it in time, the religion could overthrow his authority. But it wasn’t Ewan’s city to rule, so it wasn’t his headache. He passed the priest and made his way through the spice market. There were no alleys that bypassed it to the docks, the torture of his nose was inevitable.
“Morning.” Kiev greeted Ewan when he reached the ship they were to board.
“Morning,” Ewan said. “Ready to leave?”
“Almost, just loading up the boxes now.”
“So, not just a trade route check?”
“We’re sailing anyway, exporting with us will save time and effort.”
Ewan nodded. “I’ll go set up in my room then,” he said. “I do get a room, right?”
Kiev laughed. “Yeah, you do,” he said. “Captain, show him his room please.”
“Of course, sir.”
……
The roaring waves crashed against the ship’s bow as it sailed towards the rising sun. The endless open waters greeted them, and Drarith became smaller and smaller in their tail. They left with several ships, but soon, they cruised alone with only the seagulls accompanying them—they too bade their farewells after a while.
Ewan wandered around, getting a feel of the place. The ship’s design was similar, but the deck was cleaner, the woods were sturdier, the rooms were bigger, and the sailors were more seasoned—it beat Cork’s slave ship in all criteria. He also checked for a protective spell circuit, and indeed, there was one in the main mast. It even had a shield around it that prevented his Ryvia from messing with it.
“Done assessing the ship?” Kiev asked, walking onto the top deck.
“Almost,” Ewan said. “Decided on a couple of escape routes too.”
“In case the ship goes down or in case we attack you?”
“Both,” he said. “I need to run in either case.”
Kiev chuckled. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“So, will you tell me now why you invited me over?”
“Let’s talk in my room.”
“After you then.” Ewan gestured and followed Kiev down into his cabin.
It was a simple room with a bed, a table, a couple of chairs, and a round window—it didn’t provide enough light, so the lantern burned on the wall even during daylight.
“Do you want some backstory? Some explanation? Or do you want me to get to the point?” Kiev asked, taking a seat on one of the chairs.
“To the point please,” Ewan said, sitting opposite him. He took a risk coming on the ship. They surrounded him and he was alone. But it was a step he had to take to move forward, he couldn’t shirk it.
“Okay then,” Kiev said. “We need your help; my Gramps needs your help.”
Ewan raised his brows. His ‘Gramps’ was at least a Step-2 Severynth, he heard—at the Genesis stage. And he needed his help? What was so special about him? What set him apart from the other Severynths in their eyes? His thoughts collided. He had many secrets, but only one that he didn’t care to hide. He used it in the medicine unit to put those injured to sleep….
“Gramps needs your mystic spells.”
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