Nocturna League (Episode 2: The Mist Hour) (2 page)

The Captain, hands behind his back in
uniform professionalism, nods. “Absolutely. He’s the one for this
operation,” he says. The Captain turns to the creaked open kitchen
door. “Mr. Boris, your apprentice chef has been captured. You will
accompany us on the expedition to retrieve her.”

As Boris, a giant lobster
seasort with an apron and a chef’s hat, bursts from his lair,
Colette waves her hands in spite and confusion.
“
Why?!
Please don’t
take him with us! He’s… he’s-”

“
I AM OF THE SAVING!” Boris
exclaims, both human-sized claws clapping with righteous
indignation.

The Captain nods. “Boris, while
territorial and eccentric, is a valued member of our crew. Besides,
he has her scent memorized, he’ll be perfect at tracking her
down.”

“
He thought she was food
the first time they met. He was asking you if you had a cut chart
of her.”

The Captain shrugs. “A simple mistake.
Besides, that’s usually what I mean when I tell him to ‘take care’
of someone.”

Colette, again with a dumbfounded look
on her face, is quickly hugged by Boris, who also hugs The Captain.
“I AM OF THE READY! MUCH SAVING OF THE ASSISTANT, YES?”

The Captain nods. “That’s right,
Boris. Enough praddle-tallying. Let’s be on our way.”

The Captain, chef Boris, previously
known as “Tyrant-Butcher of the Waves” Boris, and a huffy Miss
Ketiere step into the four-man shore-boat. Boris is the size of
three people, so The Captain and Colette have to hang on the rim of
the boat as they start up the motor and head off for the only body
of land in view, in the same direction that the figure spirited
away Grancis.

Chapter 2: Whitewave
Cove

An hour later the three are close
enough to the island to make out all the lights:

Before them is a shining town of many
colorful lights nestled in a wide, miles-long cove. The lighthouse
the brightest structure by only a lumen’s worth. Two towering
mansions, both at opposing sides of the cove, flare out their own
lights, one of a light, aquatic blue, and the other of a powerful,
burgundy red.

Colette squints at the glowing port.
“Captain, you know this place?”

The Captain hums as he looks over the
lights, his glasses mixing the yellow, red and blue colors into a
colorful sheen. “I haven’t. I’ve been to many ports, but not this
one.”

Colette scoffs. “But knowing you, you
probably forgot.”

The Captain accidentally pushes
Colette off the boat. “Oh my, Boris, it seems Miss Ketiere fell off
into the freezing midnight waters. We’ll have to turn around and
retrieve her,” The Captain says in a dead serious tone. A few
seconds later, a shivering, cussing Colette is pulled back on
board. She decides she’ll stop bringing up The Captain’s capacity
at thought for now.

“
Boris, please warm her
up,” The Captain says bluntly.

“
N-no that’s quite
unca-”

“
THE WARMING WILL BE ME,
YES?” Boris gurgles as he squeezes her with his bulking red arms.
Of course, Boris being a manner of crustacean, his embrace is less
“warm and soft” and more “spiky and hard”. As they sail for the
island, Colette seriously questions if all this suffering will make
her a more formidable person, and whether or not the world truly
belongs to overlords, monsters, men, and those who have forgone
their sanity in the pursuit of strength.

They dock at the commercial sector and
tie up their ship. A short, official-looking man with a wig steps
up with a pen and ledger in hand. “Good morning. It is twenty sins
to tie the ship for a d-” Once he looked down at the people
climbing up to the dock, however, he sees it is in fact a giant
lobster, a soaking wet woman with a military pistol, and an
official-looking, bandaged captain of a ship of horrors.

“
Truly? I would appreciate
it if you were to let us dock here for free until we’ve finished
our business. It was one of your island’s inhabitants that
kidnapped one of our crew-persons, after all,” The Captain says,
towering over the official as he adjusts his glasses. The Captain,
his face angled at the red mansion, gains a deep crimson sheen in
the black contrast of the night.

“
Uh… um, yes, please go
right on ahead! I
would
like a name to put down, though!” The official says, watching
Boris stretch his layered crustacean back.

“
The Captain,” The Captain
says, nodding politely to the man and heading down the
dock.

“
N-no, sir. Your
name.
”

“
The Captain.”

“
S-… Oh, damn it all!” The
official storms back to his post after writing something very rude
in place of The Captain’s name.

The three walk to a nearby canteen,
open the door, and the musical, lively bar instantly goes
silent.

“
Good day, ladies and
gentlemen. We’re searching for the ruler of this port. Would anyone
be willing to help?” The Captain asks with perfect
posture.

A mix of laughter and sighs are heard
among the patrons, and one particularly brawny sailor speaks up.
“You a captain?”

“
The Captain,
actually.”

The man gets up from his seat and
approaches the three. He stops just an inch from The Captain’s
face. “You didn’t hear about the travel embargo? You’re probably
one of those hired Kalamest hands.”

The Captain hums in thought.
“Kalamest? I cannot say I’m familiar.”

“
Why else would you come to
this gods forsaken sea rock?” The man says, cracking his knuckles
as others join him in the stand.

“
One of my hands has been
kidnapped on the deck of our ship. This is the only island for a
hundred in a hundred kilometers- the kidnapper must have taken her
here.”

The men exchange a few glances, and
the front one looks back to The Captain. “This kidnapper. Did it
seem like he could, fly? Teleport, even?”

“
Why yes, he seemed to
appear and disappear in the surrounding mist at will.”

Some of the patrons get back to their
seats, and the front man gives a knowing look of sympathy. “Ahh, a
victim of the Kalamests, then.”

The bar slouches into a gloomy aura,
the musicians taking their time, and the patrons intently listening
in.

“
What do you mean? Who, or
what are the Kalamests?”

The man shakes his head. “Tell you
what, you buy and I’ll fill you in on the story.”

The Captain nods. “Sounds fair,” he
says as he goes to the man’s table, all seats but his empty, and
sit down. Colette follows along, but Boris is rarely a simple
person to take along.

“
ARE WE OF THE
SITTING?”

“
The sitting is of us,” The
Captain says calmly. Boris slams his giant body into a chair,
shattering instantly and sending long splinters into the openings
of his shell.

The Captain nods again and waves over
the waitress. “Excellent, Boris and our friend here will have
something that won’t kill them, but would still be considered
alcoholic. Our female on the other hand will take something fruity
and far less intoxicating; such is the manner of women, of course,”
he says, nodding over to Colette, who is immediately offended that
the waitress doesn’t seem to care.

“
As if I couldn’t handle
it,” she says under her breath.

The Captain looks to her. “Oh, could
it be you’re willing to take control of the situation rather than
have me dictate things for you?”

She shakes her head lightly with a
look of confusion. “And just what would that look like,
Captain?”

“
Tell me, I haven’t ordered
my drink yet. Are you willing to trade drinks with me? Are you so
confident that you hold your own fate?” The Captain asks, pressing
his glasses to the bridge of his nose.

Colette slams her fist on the table.
“Of course! I can deal with anything!”

“
Ahh, color me impressed,
Miss Ketiere. Very well, I’ll have a pint of vinegar,” The Captain
says. Colette’s jaw drops as the waitress slowly puts down the
order, cringing at the thought of the unheard of order.

Colette stares into nothingness.
“W-what? Don’t you drink like… liquor?”

“
Only when I don’t have a
job to do. Vinegar keeps my nerves high. I hope you enjoy,” he says
as the waitress turns away. Colette has nothing to say, and instead
looks on blankly as the sailor begins his story.

“
Alright you three. For
generations there have been two families that hold the land rights
to about ninety percent of our port: the Ganasteres and the
Kalamests. They’ve been more or less at war against each other the
whole time- usually in the shadows, but this is a whole new level.
Ya’ see, the Kalamests have an heirloom, a powerful witch relic:
The Gauntlet of Mist.” As the man speaks, The Captain lowers his
head in thought. It all sounds so familiar. “At midnight every
night it can be used for one hour, shrouding the user in mist and
making them one with it. For decades the gauntlet’s been largely
unused, until two weeks ago. It all started when the primary heir
of the Ganasteres mysteriously disappeared into the mists of the
night. There was a wide search for him until one morning four days
later. He was nev-”

“
Here are you drinks!… and,
vinegar,” the waitress says with an uneven tone, handing out the
drinks and delivering a tall pint of vinegar to Colette. She is
thanked, the three men enjoy their first gulps, and Colette just
takes deep breaths as she composes herself.

“
Right,
dead.
The dude was never found again,
except for a bloody scrap of his clothing found days later. Every
day after that, another piece of clothing belonging to one of the
disappeared people would appear somewhere in town, drenched in
blood. ‘Course, the Kalamests denied having perpetrated the crimes,
but that’s obviously a load of shit. The first victim was a
Ganastere, and the kidnapper hasn’t exactly been subtle about using
those mist powers to kidnap folks… They’re boarded up in their
mansion now- we’ve actually been waiting for ‘em to come out to
bring them to justice, though some folks have tried to break in.
It’s a right fortress that Kalamest estate- barred outside, trapped
inside. You look like some hard sailors tho-”

“
Oh
gods!
” Colette says after taking her
first gulp of vinegar. The Captain swishes the pink drink around in
his hand chipperly as he takes casual, savoring sips.

“
You were saying?” The
Captain nods his head.

The man takes a breath of the
salt-scented bar, and nods. “Right. I was thinkin’ if you’re
looking to get your friend back, you might try the Ganastere
estate. I hear they’ve been planning to help the town break into
the Kalamest house- and they need as much muscle as we can get,
especially if the assault takes longer than a day.”

Colette wipes a look of disgust from
her face. “Why just a day?”

The man leans in with a spark in his
eye. “Cuz’ if they know we’re trying to oust them at midnight, the
hour the gauntlet operates, we’ll be in deep shit. The gauntlet
user is fast as a blink, and hits like a truck. Saw a guy pick a
fight with the Kalamest using it to save his wife; he’s still in
the hospital- you got me?”

Colette raises a brow, wondering just
how The Captain could take a full barrage of hits, plus a bullet
through his shoulder, and still be alright the minute after. “I got
ya’.”

The man nods. “Hope that helped you
mates well enough.”

The Captain reaches over and shakes
the man’s hand. “It was perfectly helpful, my good man. We’ll take
up the Gainstare home ne-”

“
Ganastere
, Cap,” Colette says lightly,
taking deep breaths and nursing off the vinegar slowly.

The Captain nods. “Right, my dear
bialy. So at that I feel it best we keep you on a steady pace to
captain-hood and send you to the Krillesque estate to perform some
reconnaissance; but first you must finish my drink.”

Colette winces. “Uh, but Captain.
Boris hasn’t finished his drink yet! Do you expect me to rush my
cr-”

“
DRINK IS OF ME?” Boris
asks, looking surprised.

The Captain nods. “That it is,
Boris.”

The Captain barely finishing his
sentence, Boris slams his head face down into the glass, shattering
completely and sucking up all the delicious moisture and broken
glass. The helpful man and Colette just stare for a moment as Boris
gargles in euphoria. “THE DRINKING IS TO LIKE OF ME!”

“
I’m glad you feel that
way, Boris.” The Captain pats Boris on the head, and then turns to
Colette. “Now, Miss Ketiere, if you please,” he says as he gestures
to the pint-glass of vinegar, three/fourths still
remaining.

Colette snuffs out contemptuous air,
takes one more deep breath, and then raises it to her lips. Each
gulp sounds straddled with pain and disgust, as if it were poison,
and the breath she releases once she finishes has all the elements
of a person who nearly drowned, only to reach the salvation of air
at the very last second of consciousness. She presses her hand
firmly against her face in misery, but her lips are curved up in a
smile - she did succeed, even though it cost her a bit of her mind.
Colette looks up seconds later, and sees a rare, almost fatherly
smile on The Captain’s face.