NOVEL SIMPLE Chapter 50
While the Alteraci caravel was nothing outstanding, especially when compared with the sleeker and swifter Kul Tiran equivalents, it served as a comfortable enough transport for Jaina’s return home. It wasn’t that long a trip that she’d need to be picky about her mode of transport anyway; when she’d sent news of her return, her father had insisted he send a proper Kul Tiran royal frigate to pick her up.
Not having the time or energy to argue, Kyle had quickly compromised on the side of expediency by having the cruiser meet them halfway through. Not only would it save a few days, transferring ships would still allow Alterac to give a formal send-off that would put it on equal footing with Kul Tiras.
Otherwise, having Jaina be picked up at port would mean that the kingdom was not capable of ensuring her safety at sea. Pelton had been most insistent about maintaining appearances, taking the simple act of transportation as an opportunity to send a message that Alterac was not to be looked down upon, even in an area where it was severely lacking.
At the moment anyway. Who knows what Kyle might be working on or already had waiting in the wings. The thought of him excitedly working on his projects always made Jaina’s lips tug upwards, and she would often reach for the small jewel that now hung off the choker around her neck.
With the waters of Baradin Bay calm and not so much as a suspicious ship anywhere in sight, Jaina enjoyed the peaceful journey as best as she could. She brushed up on arcane fundamentals and cleaned up her thesis on murloc culture, unfazed by the rocking of the ship as any true-blooded Kul Tiran might be. Her interaction with the Alteraci crew was friendly but minimal, the sailors consciously minding the difference in rank and keeping their distance.
There wouldn’t be much time for socializing anyway; on the third day, one of her father’s personal ships was spotted cutting through the waves to meet the caravel. A hybrid of traditional wind-powered sails and gnomish oil-fuelled engines, the Mistracer was one of the first ships ‘modernized’ by the gnomes during the Second War. Faster than any ship of its weight within and without the Alliance yet still durable thanks to its storm silver cladding, the heavy frigate had a fearsome tally of sunken Horde ships, mostly from swift hit-and-run strikes that sent even ogre juggernaughts under the waves. Its speed was also what made it the lord admiral’s favorite when he had the time to indulge in recreational sailing. Despite the crew’s nervousness, Jaina couldn’t help but smile as she saw the Mistracer approach the caravel, fondly remembering the times she and her brothers joined their father behind the ship’s wheel, laughing with the brisk sea-tinged air rushing against her face.
The larger frigate shot past the caravel’s starboard side, and in an impressive display of its speed and maneuverability, quickly turned and raced up alongside its port side in a matter of minutes. It was an old, formal declaration, marking which ship was disembarking passengers and which ship was receiving it.
An long, ornately carved gangplank was lowered from the Mistracer to connect the two vessels, and Jaina smiled brightly as she saw a familiar figure waiting on the other ship, his face as stern as it usually was when leading anything more than a boating crew. Lord Admiral Daelin Proudmoore was crisply dressed and sharply groomed as befitted his rank, and as if he were formally meeting with King Terenas or the late King Thoras.
“We seek a daughter of Kul Tiras,” a grizzled Kul Tiran mariner bellowed, “returning safely from lands beyond by the grace of the Tidemother.”
The Alteraci sailors stared and shifted nervously at the display before them, the poor captain included. Considering they were all inexperienced mainlanders, the air of expectation wafted over their awed heads.
Not knowing whether or not it’d be considered poor form, Jaina stepped in for the clueless Alteraci crew.
“Presenting the daughter of the tides,” she recited back as she stepped towards the gangplank. “Returning to the islands to know again the comfort of the islands and waves.”
Wait, did she use the right reply, or was that more for returning from exile?
Her father’s voice boomed sharply, interrupting her thoughts. Jaina could hear the pride and mild amusement in his words. “We welcome her aboard, this returning daughter, and thank the tides for carrying her back.”
With that, Jaina stepped onto the gangplank and began walking, consciously keeping her eyes forwards instead of on her footing or the shapes moving under the waves. If her father’s going for this particular bit of pomp, then she’d have to prove herself a Kul Tiran daughter and be sure of her steps. Slipping or stumbling as the gangplank gently rose and fell along with the ships would give cause for some ribbing, but falling overboard would be taken as an ill omen.
Thankfully, neither happened, and Jaina made it across and stood at attention before the assembled crew. “Across the waves and from lands beyond, I have returned.”
There was a second of silence before her father strode forwards to embrace her in a tight hug. “Welcome back, Jaina.”
Formalities ended, the gangplank was dragged back up, and the Mistracer wasted no time in speeding back home. In the privacy of the captain’s cabin, the lord admiral broke into a warm smile and wasted little time to dispense parental praise.
“Let me look at you. My, how you’ve grown,” Daelin remarked proudly as he gently held his daughter by the shoulders and regarded her with pride that made Jaina’s heart swell. “I’m glad you haven’t forgotten your roots.”
“I could never forget,” she replied, grinning softly.
“That you speak like a mainlander might make some think otherwise,” he countered with a smirk. “I’m sure your brother would have something to say about that.”
Jaina rolled her eyes as she remembered her mischievous younger sibling. “How is Tandred?” she asked, switching topics. “How are you? How is mother?”
Her father let out a soft, happy sigh. “Fine, we’re all fine. Even better now with your return.”
At that, Jaina couldn’t help but lower the atmosphere with a frown. “I’m sorry that it couldn’t be under better circumstances.”
Daelin shook his head to dismiss the sentiment. “It is dark news, but what is important is that you’ve come back, safe and unharmed.”
Father and daughter enjoyed the moment for a while more before Jaina noted how his gaze landed on Kyle’s gift hanging from her choker and swiftly moved on to more important matters. “How much have you heard from the mainland, father?”
“Enough,” the lord admiral said with a shake of his head, showing signs of disgust. “Thoras killed by his own demon-consorting son, demons in Quel’Thalas, Gilneas responsible for Lordaeron’s plague… The whole continent’s gone mad.”
“How much Gilnean food has Kul Tiras brought in?”
“Not much… The plague’s been limited to some smaller isles and we’ve already quarantined the infected villages. Regardless, the tidesages and Thornspeakers are on the alert and preparations have been made should the worst happen.”
Jaina nodded with some relief. “What of interactions with Gilneas?”
This time Daelin frowned and began tugging at his mustache, a sign that he was mildly frustrated or annoyed. “Beyond their merchants, sightings of their ships on the open seas have been almost non-existent. Their fleet’s focused on heavily patrolling their shores. We’ve not-”
“Lord admiral!” a shout interrupted from the other side of the cabin’s lone door. Hurried knocks on it followed a second after. Jaina felt the atmosphere turn dangerous as her father swiftly turned to open the door, finding a wide-eyed and nervous lieutenant staring at him.
That was a bad sign. Few things gave Kul Tiran sailors reason to be openly anxious out on sea.
“Lord admiral,” the lieutenant quickly greeted, his lack of a proper salute further hinting at how trouble Jaina could expect. “A heavy fog’s spotted in the distance.”
“Fog?” Daelin voiced with concern and quickly followed his lieutenant out, and without hesitation Jaina joined them.
The ship’s two tidesages stood just outside the cabin, their faces set in deep concern. “My lord admiral,” one of them began, “A queer fog comes for us. We have tried banishing it, but the Tidemother’s gifts hold no sway over it.”
“Impossible,” the lord admiral muttered, and Jaina found herself just as surprised as her father was. The tidesages, priests of the Tidemother, held dominion over the oceans and storms. With at least one tidesage aboard every Kul Tiran ship, the sails would always catch wind, storms would be calmed, and fishes guided into nets. Banishing or at least relocating a fog was a staple chore for them.
“Something controls the fog,” the other tidesage warned gravely as the lieutenant led the lord admiral to the deck’s starboard railings. “Something that hides within it, I have no doubt.” The man’s shoulders slumped. “However, we cannot ascertain just who or what exactly is kept within.”
Jaina joined her father to cast her gaze across the waves and found a great cloudy wall on the horizon. It was clearly unnatural, even she could tell that the weather was not right for such a large fog to exist.
“It is coming for us?” Daelin asked.
“We are not sure.”
“If we are merely in their way, it will mean it intends to head for Khaz Modan…” He hummed in thought for a moment before issuing orders. “We push on. Run our engines at full speed. Tidesages, I want wind in the sails. Combat speed.”
As the sailors and tidesages obeyed their lord admiral, Jaina followed her father up to the quarter deck. “This is clearly not a mere fog,” he muttered before glancing at her. “Jaina, could you peer into it?”
“I could try,” she replied, nodding, and then stared out to the fog, instinctively bracing herself as she felt the Mistracer lurch from sudden acceleration. At such a distance, trying to pick out arcane signatures would be impossible for her, so she turned around and sought some clear space. Jaina froze halfway when she remembered where she was and turned sheepishly to her father.
“Uh…could I cast a spell on the quarter deck?”
“You may,” came the amused reply despite the circumstances.
With a grateful nod, Jaina began casting, the other officers on the deck wisely giving her the space she needed. The scrying spell she learned from Valoghan wasn’t hard, but it had a significant footprint to ensure legibility. It didn’t take long for a thin tear of light to appear in the air before her, and with a gesture with her arms, the tear expanded into a glowing rent in space. With a glance out at the fog to provide a focus for her spell, the light from the scrying portal clarified into a top-down view of the foggy seas.
“That’s better than using a spyglass,” the lord admiral muttered before frowning at the scrying portal. The fog shown within roiled as if alive, and dark silhouettes peeked out.
“Those are ships,” remarked the sailing master, a man whose name Jaina struggled to remember. And he was right. Looking at the shapes that poked through the fog, Jaina saw the arrangement of masts with sails fully raised and bulging.It took some effort, but she could also make out the prows and raised decks.
Her father’s frown deepened. “Three masts…iron prows…”
“Gilnean battleships,” the tidesage with them said gravely, drawing murmurs from those who heard it.
With that definition in place, Jaina did a quick count of the masts she could see, and estimated around six battleships. There were also groupings of two masted ships at the edges of the formation, probably destroyers.
To further add to the growing concern, as the Mistracer cut through the waves to clear away from the obscured fleet’s predicted trajectory, the entirety of the fog and the ships within it began turning after it.
“The damned bastards are coming for us,” Daelin corrected in a frustrated hiss.
“How are they keeping the fog on themselves?” the tidesage asked, utterly baffled. “How can they see beyond it to track us?”
“I’ve got a theory on that,” Jaina answered dryly, but before she could deadpan further, the fog in the scrying portal began to swirl with greater activity. The jaws of the men and women who peered into it dropped as they all came to a realization, just as the lookout in the crow’s nest gave an alarmed shout.
“The fog’s picking up speed!”
Lord Admiral Daelin Proudmoore reacted to the news with steely resolve. “All hands, battle stations.” Seamen rushed to their assigned cannons while the marines hurried below decks to switch out their more ceremonial kit with more pragmatic weapons at the armory, a series of flares were launched into the afternoon skies, and the tidesages began beseeching the Tidemother for protective blessings.
The lord admiral turned to his daughter with a flash of conflicted feelings, his determination wavering for a moment. Jaina gave him a resolute nod, making the decision for him. “Where would you have this daughter of Kul Tiras, lord admiral?”
That earned a grateful but pained smile from him, and Daelin let out a soft sigh before he gave his daughter her orders.
“Keep that portal of yours open, see if you can get a clearer view of things. Tell me if anything within the fog changes. If we come to blows, I want you supporting the tidesages.”
Jaina gave her father a swift salute and returned to the scrying portal. She resisted the urge to reach for the jewel resting against her chest as she glanced out to the fog, finding it smothering more of the horizon as it drew ever closer.
It didn’t take long for the sails of friendly reinforcements to be sighted ahead of the Mistracer, but by then the fog was looming over the frigate, seemingly seeking to swallow it. Jaina caught the shift in the masts within the fog, and yelled out a warning as green lights sparked off in the scrying portal.
“Incoming fire!”
What seemed like a meteor shower trailing green flames shot out of the fog, most of it landing well short of the Mistracer as small geysers in the ocean. The sudden rocking and dull explosions from the few lucky hits told Jaina that the shots struck against the frigate’s storm silver cladding with at best non-critical damage.
“Maintain full speed!” her father ordered. “Evasive maneuvers!”
He needn’t have bothered, as the Gilnean ships resumed their impossibly fast pursuit of the Mistracer.
Eventually, the fog’s tendrils grew close enough to brush against the frigate, and several destroyers broke into view. Jaina gasped despite herself as she picked out their details. They were most definitely Gilnean ships, with their more rugged design. Yet there were enhancements on the ships that were decidedly foreign, both to Gilneas and the Alliance as a whole. What her mind initially registered as additional figureheads were instead mutilated bodies lashed to the bow of the ships, right above large ramming spikes. Great cauldrons sat by their mizzen masts, belching thick, green-tinged smoke that rose up and, against all reason, moved into the sails to push them onwards.
And the crew…there was something about their movements that Jaina could tell was wrong even from this distance. They leapt and rushed with a rabid energy, more bestial than anything close to human.
“They’re trying to board us,” Jaina heard her father comment with more irritation than anything else, unfazed by the madness he witnessed. “Genn still hasn’t given up his delusions of surpassing us at sea, it seems…” She heard the rasp of his blade unsheathing, and felt his resolve radiate to wash over her and the crew.
A destroyer swooped in, and the Mistracer’s guns fired. Cannonballs tore into its hull in a tight pattern, creating a gaping wound at the waterline of its bow. With the magical smoke still pushing it, the ship began to dive under the waves. Another volley from the lower decks slashed open another vessel’s hull, finding something critical that made the destroyer suddenly leap above the waves as a powerful explosion tore it apart.
Despite the spectacular display of firepower, there were more of the enemy that still charged for the Mistracer. The frigate managed two more volleys before the surviving destroyers closed in and grappling hooks were launched by the wild-eyed and hooting Gilneans. The orders to repel boarders was given out, and Jaina braced herself behind her father to receive the enemy.
This was just the destroyers, she reminded herself grimly, and she gave herself a moment’s distraction to peer out into sea, where several large silhouettes began to break through the fog.
Author's notes: And I'm gonna take my usual 50-chapter-break now.