The Hybrid: Chasing Destiny

Caeden stood on the deck of Lady Ella as she slowed and eased into Landon Province’s Trading dock. He would have preferred to sail further along the coast and dock at the Empire’s Naval port, but the frogmen threat had forced him to choose the safer but more public option. Large shadows of the airships overhead darkened the ship's deck as they whirred passed to land further in. The rhythmic hissing of their steam engines could still be heard as they disappeared from his view. They were quick to answer his signal once the ship entered their range of sight. As the Leviathan forewarned, frogmen swarmed the ship as soon as they entered the Sapphire Sea, and the battle would have gone south were they not there to lend assistance. He lost two men in the fight due to poison and grievous injury, and his Knight-Captain was stricken with a paralytic agent and was with Oswin in the sick bay. But at least their sacrifice had netted a price.

He looked at the frogman standing in the centre of the ship. It stood unresponsive as his men secured its limbs, staring blankly ahead. They were careful not to touch the colourful parts of its skin and watched it warily as they worked. Not that it mattered. It seemed to lack any will at all and was either unaware or unperturbed by the potentially fatal wound gushing through its gut.

Caeden raised Ava’s orcish sword to the light. It was not his preferred weapon of choice, but the gamble paid off. The blood that coated the tip was a vibrant red. The frog creature was living and was not afflicted with the Dark Plague. Yet, a cut from the diamond-crust blade seemed to interrupt or sever whatever control it was under, so much so that it followed no command, not even its own. Answers that lead to more questions.

Caeden wiped the blood from the blade with a cloth as men milled about offloading. He could admit that it was a well-made sword, a pity about its brutish design, though. It matched Ava perfectly.

A commotion on deck drew his attention, Ava’s Saber cat scrambled across the deck, its claws leaving scratches in the wood. It growled menacingly, yet its eyes seemed more fearful than aggressive. It tumbled through a few boxes and men before jumping from ship to dock and ran through the mass of panicked onlookers before disappearing into the underbrush of Wizard Wood.

Caeden chuckled at the display. It seems Ava already has plans. He knew enough about the two by now to be certain the Saber cat would not abandon its master so easily. He turned to the girl in question and raised a querying eyebrow.

“Well, what did you expect?” she barked defensively as she and Ser Morley stopped before him. “He has been confined for the first time in his life. He is Beast, he yearns for freedom and the wilds,” she answered with a sniff. Her haughty demeanour changed when she caught sight of her weapons in his possession. “You used my sword? Give it back.”

Caeden inspected the sword again knowing it would grate on her nerves, before sheathing it at his side. “You know what? I have grown quite fond of it myself. I think I will keep it. Your bow and dagger too,” he sniffed back haughtily.

“Those weapons are useless in the hands of the unworthy, royal prince. Give it back, I said!” she sneered viciously, and Caeden bristled.

“Is that some sort of wisdom your orc lover taught you? I am curious to know how far his teachings went,” Caeden snapped back, instantly regretting it when both Ava and Ser Morley reeled back at the bite in his words.

Anger flashed in Ava’s eyes when she recovered from the insult. She broke from the Knight-Commanders grip, reached for the bottle left on a cask and hurled it at his head. Caeden scrambled to get out of the way, the bottle missing him by hairs and shattering on the floor.

Accursed woman, the utter gall! She reached for another bottle before Ser Morley caught her and pulled her away from the cask and its contents.

“That is quite enough!” The Knight-Commander bellowed bewildered. “Ser Derric, escort the girl to port, ensure that no one speaks to her, nor she speak to anyone.”

“They were gifts! You dishonour Malgorn’s memory! Give them back!” she yelled as she was dragged from the ship by Ser Derric. It was clear to him she was holding back tears.

“Your Grace, such conduct is wholly unbecoming for one of royal blood. The girl has poor manners, yes, but you need not match her with such uncouth behaviour.”

“Spare me the lecture, Knight-Commander. I already know this has gone too far,” Caeden growled, annoyed that this incident warranted Ser Morley’s disapproval in the first place. The old man had not made him feel like a misbehaving little child in years.

“As you say, Your Grace. We have indeed given the Trade Council too much of a show already, I beg you keep that in mind in all future dealings with that girl.”

Caeden disembarked with his Knight-Commander, his stride quickening as he made a beeline to Ava and her guard. Her foul mood grew fouler with every step. She had drawn an audience and chief among them was Master Bartus himself, accompanied by his six equally flamboyant comrades. It was a vain hope that he would get a reprieve from dealing with the Trade Council and its garish leader.

As useful as they were in their trade dealings within the Casimir Empire and without, all seven heads of this particular hydra were opportunistic, deceptive and prone to eating any one of their fellow compatriots to get ahead. None of them would pass up the opportunity to rub shoulders with a royal, bastard son or not, or get their hands on useful information firsthand. Having to tiptoe around them would become a nuisance. He must get Ava back on his side before she blurts out something important and puts ideas in their heads.

“A benign hybrid, how prodigiously novel,” Master Bartus beamed over Ava with a queer look in his eye.

“Sir, as I’ve said, please step back and do not interact with my charge,” Ser Derric commanded.

“Gods, that thing isn’t contagious, is it?” Master Bartus put his yellow silken sleeve to his nose and gestured superciliously to Ava to get back with the other. Ava’s eyes narrowed and Caeden could see the cogs spinning in her mind. She was about to do something very foolish.

“Master Bartus, I am offended. You attend to a commoner before me, the pleasure of your hospitality has waned in recent years,” Caeden smiled threateningly.

“My deepest apologies, Your Grace.” Master Bartus bowed low, and his entourage followed suit. “I hope you find me worthy of forgiveness. I was overtaken by sheer curiosity, where did you find such an intriguing creature?” The man's eyes never left Ava, even when addressing him. Caeden could not name the numerous ways that irked him, but he could tell that in Master Bartus’s eyes she was a spectacle he could sell off for a small fortune.

Caeden smile faltered. He loved the Empire, but the rot that sometimes festered within his people revolted him. “Rise, Master Bartus. Miss Ava is my charge. Indeed, a benign hybrid survivor, and thus is of great importance to me and the Empire. I trust she will receive treatment befitting guests of the Imperial Crown?”

Master Bartus straightened and smoothed his robes. “Why, of course, Your Grace. The hospitality of the Trade Council has a reputation to rectify. The girl will be treated with the utmost respect and enjoy every pleasure our Manor has to offer. If I may enquire, what news from Spectermere?”

“That will have to wait. I am afraid I must task you with errands of great import first. Letters must be sent to Castle Caedence and all leaders of the five nations. I also must insist that you increase your guard at the coasts, there is danger lurking in the seas.”

“At once, Your Grace,” Master Bartus answered fretfully.

“The Knight-Commander will assist you with these matters.” Caeden indicated to Ser Morley and took Ava by the arm. “Please have someone show me to my quarters, I am in dire need of…”

Caeden stopped short as the ground started to rumble and shake beneath them. So violently that he had to readjust his footing or lose his balance. Water sea drenched the docks in heavy waves, swaying the ships and banging their hulls against the peer. Both tradesman and customer screamed in terror, fleeing for shelter as small cracks formed along the ground. Wood cracked and splintered, and buildings groaned. Then, just as suddenly as it started, the quake stopped.

“My, the wyvern is not very pleased today, is he?” Master Bartus chuckled anxiously as he straightened. Brushing at the dust that landed on his robe.

Caeden looked north to the horizon. At the Empire’s centre in the far distance, he could see the reddened tip of the Wyvern’s Jaw bellowing a black plume of smoke into the clear blue sky. The Empire had experienced these quakes for some time before he left on his journey, but nothing this severe.

“I do not recall them being this bad before.” Ser Morley remarked.

“They have been getting worse the past three days, though this one has been the worst of it so far.” Master Bartus replied.

“I – need to sit down,” Ava muttered weakly. Her eyes were closed, and she rubbed at her eyebrows with a shaky hand. Her legs buckled beneath her, and Caeden caught her before she fell. Heat wafted from her body in heavy waves, and she was drenched in sweat.

“Is it – ill?” Master Bartus muttered, eyeing Ava warily.

Caeden tipped her head up to him, worried at the flush in her cheeks and her shallow breaths. “What is the matter?”

“It’s – too hot.”