FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

In The Mist Of The Erie Isles

By Mantrid Brizon

Episode Thirty-Eight: Crunch

Sitting in the chair, all alone in his room, Valan stares at the floor. The oil lamp on the table begins to dim; the darkness snaps him out of his trance. How long was he sitting there, lost in his own thoughts? Rising from the chair, he paces the room for a moment. He can feel the tension building. Soon, he can no longer handle it, and the gunman heads for the door. Stepping into the hall, he looks at the rooms occupied by the others. Salasha and Mairlynn likely won't be interested; Salasha doesn't know him well, and he doesn't trust Mairlynn not to try and make any unwanted sexual advances.

He just needs someone to be there for him, and only there's only person he can turn to. Heading for the door, he softly knocks. After a moment, he can hear the footfalls, and in a matter of seconds, Jarae opens her bedroom door. Standing in only her top, which is just long enough to cover her womanhood, her shimmering, pink eyes grow wide at the sight of him.

"Valan! What're you doing here this late?!"

"I'm sorry but... I need you."

Seeing the look on his face, and hearing the tone in his voice, Jarae cannot help herself. She steps aside, presenting her room to him. Valan heads directly for her bed. Jarae undoes the few buttons holding her top closed, her hands trembling at the prospect of being intimate with him once more. She's overwhelmed, but ready; this is something she's thought of often, whether or not she'll admit it to herself. Approaching the object of her desires, Jarae quickly sits beside him. Her top falls open, revealing the perfection of her plump, C-cup breasts.

"I didn't know who else to turn to. We were so close once, and I just thought maybe you and I could-"

Valan pauses as he turns toward her, seeing her bare chest presented to him. Her short coat of soft fur glistens in the oil lamp's amber light; her light brown fur makes her perfect breasts appear almost like those of a bronzed statue of a goddess. His eyes turn down on impulse, scanning her toned belly and glimpsing betwixt her legs, focusing on her loins. He's enjoyed them before, when they were stranded on that tiny spit of land for several days. He immediately recalls the comfort and pleasure he took from her. It brings a little smile to his face as he recollects their previous passion.

Jarae's long tail curls over her leg, the tip flicking; it's as if she's directing his attention to the splendor of her body. Valan struggles to maintain. Where the reason behind his visit not so life altering, he'd likely bed her then and there, but for the moment, he needs more than her body; he needs her thoughts and even her guidance.

"Uhm... What're you doing?" He finally asks, his eyes fixated upon her womanhood.

"Hm?"

"I-I, uhm... I just really needed to talk to someone I trust..."

"Oh... Oh, yeah! I knew that! I was just, er, getting ready for bed?! And... My top was loose! Yeah, so... Stop looking at me!" She exclaims, swiftly closing her top and hiding her body from him.

"Sorry."

"Ahem... Now then!" She clears her throat, her face flushing beneath her fur. "What's going on, Val?"

"I spoke to Nazir. He told me something... Something I can't keep inside. I know this is sudden, but I really need you right now."

"I'm always listening, Val." Jarae flashes a warm smile.

Opening her eyes, Mairlynn's ruby orbs slowly focus on the décor of the extravagant bedroom. Light trickles in through the thin fabric of the curtains, the sun already well over the horizon. She yawns and stretches, only to feel arms wrapped around her lithe body. She turns her head and peers over her shoulder. Lord Salman Donogew holds her close, their bodies like a pair of spoons as he snuggles with her in his sleep. Mairlynn enjoys the sensation; she hasn't had it in so long. As she shifts, she feels his flaccid phallus up against her buttocks; his endowed manhood slips between her cheeks. She coos as she slowly grinds herself against him. As she rubs him with her body, he awakens.

"Mmm-hi." He groans, arching his back. "So, am I forgiven now?"

"I guess I'll let you off the hook, but don't make that mistake again, or you'll owe me another apology." She coos.

"After last night, I never could... You were right you know..."

"Oh?!"

"Yeah... You were amazing." Salman's face flushes.

"I know." She giggles. "You were too, my Lord. You were just what I needed... Tormin never pleased me the way you did."

"Who's Tormin?" Salman raises a brow.

"He's my late husband."

Salman sits up in bed, a startled look on his face.

"I had no idea! I'm sorry!"

"Don't be."

"... When did he die?"

"Years ago." Mairlynn answers, sitting up and facing him.

"So, it's been that long since...?" He slowly turns his eyes toward her groin.

"Just about, yeah." She murmurs, shying away.

"It's all beginning to make sense..."

"What's that supposed to mean?!" She flashes a nervous smile.

"Well, your appetite was... Considerable."

"Four rounds in a night doesn't sound like all that much. That's not even a full hand!" She cutely exclaims, gently scratching his bare chest with four fingers. "Besides, I had a lot of positions I wanted to try out. I've had years to think about it, after all, and you were trying to make it up to me."

"That's a fair point."

Salman smiles and slips his arms around her little frame, pulling the dainty Falmun closer. As he draws her up and onto his lap, he steals a kiss from her, showing her considerable passion. As his lips leave hers, he pulls her even closer, her modest breasts rubbing against his body as he draws her in. Salman very tenderly necks her.

"Ooohh, my Lord!" She coos. "You already made it up to me."

"That was from me, because I_wanted_ to." He says with a smile. "Come on! Let's have breakfast! I hope you worked up an appetite; I certainly did!"

After giving Mairlynn a playful smack on her butt, she slides off of his lap and he rises from the bed before collecting their clothes from the floor. Just as the pair are nearly finished dressing themselves, they're attention is suddenly drawn by a knock on the door.

"Salman? Are you awake?" Nazir calls out.

"We are."

"We, sir?"

"You can come in, old man!"

The doorknob turns and the cherry wood barrier swings open. The old Falmun enters the room, visibly surprised to see Mairlynn sitting at the end of his bed. She buttons up her salmon pink blouse, her tan trousers already covering her lower half.

"Oh, hello!"

"Hi!" Mairlynn chirps as she waves at him.

"I didn't realize you had company, Salman."

"I'm allowed to have friends." Salman quips.

"Is that what we are?" Mairlynn giggles.

"Well, I like you." Salman replies.

Mairlynn feels herself flush as she looks at the handsome Lord, who smiles with a startling warmth. She slides off of the bed, but as soon as her dainty feet touch the floor, she's overcome by soreness; her legs feel wobbly, and her womanhood reminds her of the thorough use it enjoyed throughout the night. She winces and reaches out for the bedpost to steady herself. It only causes her to flush even more, her lightly tanned flesh turning a visible shade of red.

"Are you alright?" Salman steps closer, holding out a hand to her.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She replies.

"Are you sure?!"

"Uh-huh! This just means that last night was superb." She winks.

"Oh... Good!" Salman's cheeks turn a light red.

"Salman, may I borrow you for a moment?"

"Right now?!"

"Yes, sir. It's rather important. Please?"

"Oh, alright. Let me escort the Lady to breakfast, first."

"I have a guard outside who can do that."

"That important, huh?!"

Nazir nods his head.

"I'll catch up with you later, Mairlynn."

Walking slowly through the castle, the guard by her side, the armor-plated human glances toward her several times. To Mairlynn, it seems that he's perplexed that she was the woman who left his Lord's bedroom. Reaching the grand dining hall, Mairlynn finds Valan, Jarae and Salasha already sitting at the table. Salasha picks at her food, peeling strips of chicken away from a breast. Her lips are curled around her snout in a little smile. She looks exactly like she does every day, content and oblivious. Valan and Jarae, however, both stare at their plates. They seem lost in their thoughts.

Jarae turns toward Valan and rests a clawed hand on his forearm. She speaks very tenderly as she reminds him to eat. With a furled brow, Mairlynn approaches the U-shaped table and sits beside Salasha, who's positioned between her and Jarae.

"Hi, Mair! Have a good night?!" Salasha chirps.

"Oh yeah." Mairlynn grins sinisterly. "It was something else."

"I didn't see you in the hall when they showed us to our breakfast." Salasha remarks as she takes a bit of chicken.

"That's because I slept with Lord Salman last night." Mairlynn replies, reaching out for the platter and grabbing a drumstick.

Salasha coughs, choking on her food for a brief moment.

"Huh?! Are you serious?!" She gasps.

"Yep!"

"Lucky! I had a dream last night, and Salman was in it."

"Well, whatever you two did in your sleep, I hope it was as good as what he and I did in his bed." Mairlynn winks.

Looking past Salasha, the youthful Falmun notices the horrified look on both Valan's and Jarae's faces. They stare with wide eyes, as if the little elf had done something horribly wrong or offensive.

"... What?!"

The pair remain silent, glancing back at each other and sharing a long gaze.

"They've been acting weird all day." Salasha quietly remarks to the elf.

"Pfft. When don't they?"

After eating in relative silence for some time, the door suddenly opens. Salman stands in the doorway, his gaze fixated upon Valan. Valan and Jarae stare apprehensively at the Lord, watching as he enters the room with Nazir and a half dozen guards in tow. Taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling, Salman stares at Valan, who stares right back at him. The Lord grabs a chair from the opposite end of the U-shaped table, dragging it from its place and bringing it to where Valan and the others sit. He takes a seat and rests his forearms atop the table, tapping his fingers against the hardwood. By now, even Mairlynn and Salasha are unnerved by the strange behavior of the otherwise pleasant Lord.

"Salman? ... What's going on?" Mairlynn asks.

"I just learned something... Something that's made me question... Just about everything in my life." He somberly replies.

"What's that?" Salasha cocks her head.

"... Hello, brother." He speaks directly to Valan.

"Wait... Twins?!" Mairlynn gasps, pushing her chair back.

"I had a feeling." Salasha grins. "Who's the oldest?"

"Me, by a few minutes." Valan answers.

"That's just like me and Naemen! He may be a big, strong warrior, but he'll always be my baby brother." Salasha smirks.

Salman and Valan share a long stare, their eyes narrowed. The flabbergasted guards look to Nazir, unsure of what to do. By law, Salman is the second child; he shouldn't be the Lord of Mishgan. Valan gulps, realizing the predicament this knowledge has placed him in.

"Listen, Salman... Brother... Believe me... I'm not interested in overthrowing you, not in the least." Valan somewhat quietly remarks.

"Hm?" Salman furls his brow.

Valan extends a finger, pointing at the half dozen guards standing behind Salman.

"Oh! I'm not worried about that!" He laughs, dismissively waving a hand.

"Oh..."

"Then what's with the guards?" Jarae asks.

"They're the premiers. I just brought them here so they'd know. I felt a kinship with you as soon as I saw you, Valan! I'm glad it was this and not my own vanity! Hah!"

Salman reaches across the table and collects the other drumstick, flashing a warm smile at Mairlynn.

"So, you're not upset?!" Valan asks, visibly surprised.

"At who? You?! No. At our mother? I never knew her, so how can I hate her? At dad? I'll admit that I'm a little disappointed in what he did, but he was in pain and he just wanted to forget and to protect me. I understand, and that makes it easier to accept."

"Well, that's very mature of you." Jarae remarks.

"You knew about this?!" Mairlynn gasps.

"After Nazir told me last night, I talked to Jarae. I needed to share it, and get it off my chest." Valan answers.

"I don't blame you." Nazir murmurs.

"I can see you both like purple." Salasha comments.

"It's a nice color." Salman smiles at her, brushing his free hand over his silk shirt.

"Naemen and I have a lot of things in common for being twins. I wonder what else you two share in common."

"I'd like to find that out myself." Salman replies, glancing at his twin brother.

Finally reunited after three decades, Salman made a startling order. By right, Valan should be the Lord, and though he claimed disinterest in the power, Salman offered to share authority. When Valan politely rejected his offer, Salman gave him the next best thing; Mishgan would always be open to them, and he'd even commission a special dock, closer to the castle, just to house the Arona-Dahl. Guards were sent out to the harbor, and the crew of the Arona-Dahl were called back. Once at the castle, the secret of Valan's and Salman's genealogy was revealed to everyone.

All were stunned, but the story of their separation made sense to the more capable warriors, Steingar, Kirsta and Naemen. Salman went out of his way to accommodate them, and with the Lord of Mishgan so eager to acquaint himself with his long-lost brother, as well as all of his brother's friends, the crew accepted his next offer. For two days they stayed at Mishgan, living in the castle as if it was their own. Using the castle's stock of medicines, Lutala was better able to treat Irzain's mind, but she was also able to begin repairing Roak's; after building up his trust, the severely damaged, dreadlocked human finally allowed Lutala to place her glowing hands upon him.

Meanwhile, the Pitania mines were opened to them. Steingar and Kirsta spent hours filling their hold with as much of the raw ore as they could fit. Gifted with a hand-powered crusher and a stockpile of the catalytic fluids, this would allow them to infuse the ore into the coal themselves. However, Mishgan has only a modest coal mine; Salman was disappointed that he couldn't spare more, though they were still able to refill the feed basin, which steadily drops the coal into Arona's furnace. It was almost as if the crew finally had a home, but they couldn't become complacent; the Crown is still after them.

Still, it was a refreshing break, and everyone was eager to take advantage of it, especially Mairlynn. Salman is a moral man, as was his father, Ivan Donogew. Though the Lord has had lovers in the past, they were always long-term; he'd never used women the way many other Lords would. After that first night with him, Mairlynn found the Lord receptive to more. To her delight, he considered their fling to be far more meaningful; it opened a door to a real relationship. When he wasn't with Valan, making up for lost time, he was with Mairlynn, making up for lost passion.

The little Falmun secretly delights in the jealous glares of Salasha, Lutala and even Kirsta, as she follows her lover down the hall and into his study. No sooner than the double doors swing shut, she makes her move. Meanwhile, Valan sits in a workshop with Jarae, overlooking Salman's work. By chance, or possibly fate, Salman has spent his life as an inventor as well. It's also the reason he's thirty-one-years-old and unmarried. Valan holds a pistol, the frame made of molded brass. A pan lay atop the weapon, with seven chambers spaced evenly and facing all directions. He cycles the weapon, which spins and indexes the pan-turret, just like his harmonica pistol.

"It works like yours." Jarae remarks, standing at a window, but looking back at him.

"Heh... He has the concept, and the clockwork is like mine, but he didn't build ignition caps or hammers. It doesn't have a way to actually fire. If it did, though..." He replies.

"Still, he managed to build it. Salasha and Naemen both say that twins share more than they realize."

"Maybe, that's true..."

Valan looks over a set of telescopes that have been fused together, one for each eye. It was an invention he thought was exclusive to him. Jarae turns her head, glancing out of the window and looking toward the harbor. Men begin marking a place to dig the Arona's new bay, having measured the ship's hull as soon as Salman gave the order. As she watches them, however, she notices something in the distance. A Sloop Of War lumbers into the harbor.

"Hey, Val. Come here, and bring those telescopes."

Valan rushes to her side, holding out the telescopes. She grabs the device and brings the lenses to her eyes, adjusting the magnification and the focus.

"Oh no... Tell me that isn't him!"

"Who?!"

"Look..."

Passing Valan the device, he brings the lenses to his eyes and stares in horror. Departing the ship stands a somewhat short, blond-haired human, adorned in the armor of a Captain of the Crown.

"Oh no..."

A few hours later, marching along the path and approaching the castle with the utmost confidence, Captain Kristoff Mayweather stops only for the armed guards who block his way.

"Bad man. A bad man! A BAD MAN!" Roak shouts.

"Hm?"

Lutala's hands cease their glowing, ending Irzain's session early. She turns back, seeing Roak as he points frantically out of the window, jumping up and down quite dramatically. Joining the dark-skinned human as Irzain slowly opens his eyes, she looks outside.

"Oh no..."

"They come for us. Come for Roak! They're hunting the purity, hunting the water and her fire! They won't ever stop, until they bring the darkness! They want to steal Roak's light!" Roak grows increasingly louder, clutching to his dreadlocks and pulling them beneath his chin.

"It'll be okay. Roak. Salman will protect us." Lutala speaks softly, resting her hands on his shoulders and trying to calm him down.

"By the Seraphs... I know where to go!" Irzain exclaims as he bolts up from the table.

Using his credentials as a Captain of the Crown, Kristoff Mayweather is able to insist upon entry into Lord Salman's castle. However, even Kristoff can't search it without permission; Lord Donogew must grant him that. With a dozen armed guards keeping him at bay in the grand hall, Nazir races as fast as an eighty-six-year-old Falmun can, making his way for the study. According to some of the guards, that's where the Lord was last seen, along with Mairlynn. Nazir soon reaches the double doors. He's about to throw them open when her hears sounds coming from within...

"Ahh-hah-ahh! I'm, ahh, gonna, ahh-ahh-nnnNNNNAAAAAHHHH!" Mairlynn's now familiar voice squeals.

"Rrr-yeah! Nngf, I'm, rrrrrRRRRAAAAHHH!!!" Salman roars.

With the Captain waiting and unable to stall for time, Nazir prepares himself. He closes his eyes and takes a preparatory breath before grasping the doorknobs. Throwing open the double doors, the old elf's face flushes. Lying on her back and atop Salman's desk, the top of her head facing the old Famlum, Salman looms over Mairlynn. Her slender, naked legs are wrapped around him as he leans over her, resting against his forearms. Wincing from the pleasure, the lovers orgasm together; Salman floods Mairlynn's body with every drop of his seed.

"Oooohhhh..." He moans, still shivering from his release.

"Ahhhh-yeah!" She sighs.

Mairlynn gasps and pants, before finally noticing the light from the opened door on Salman's body. She tilts her head back and looks up, toward Nazir, just as the old man clears his throat.

"Ahem..."

"Oh, hello!" She chirps, still catching her breath.

"I knew I should've locked that door." Salman murmurs, slowly lifting himself up and standing between her spread legs. "What is it, Nazir? I'm a little busy."

"Yeah, I can see that... There's a man waiting for you... A Captain of the Crown."

Mairlynn's eyes grow wide, but she's soon distracted; her body rocks with pleasure and she lets out a moan as Salman pulls his large manhood from her stretched loins.

"Alright." Salman replies. "Give us a few minutes, okay?"

"We just need to clean up." Mairlynn winks.

"Er, right... Come as soon as you can. I mean! Try not to keep him waiting... He doesn't look happy."

After catching their breath and drying off their sweat with a set of rags, Salman and Mairlynn pull on their clothes. The little Falmun reaches up, buttoning his collar and puffing out the ruffles of his shirt.

"There! Portrait perfect!"

"Thanks." He smiles, gently stroking her cheek. "Alright! Send him in!" Salman shouts at the closed doors.

After a moment, the knobs turn and Nazir shows Captain Mayweather into the study. Standing in the doorway, Captain Mayweather looks horrified as he lay eyes on Lord Donogew. He reaches for his sword, only for two guards to grab his arms, startling him.

"Don't even think about harming Lord Donogew!" A guard growls.

"Draw that cutlass and I'll shove it up your ass!" The other adds.

"That's alright. Let him go." Salman speaks, raising a hand.

The men look to their Lord before carefully releasing the Captain, who looks over Salman's form for a moment.

"Salman Donogew, at your service. How may I help you, Captain?"

"... You're the Lord, here?"

"I am."

"Huh... And we've _never_met before..."

"Don't play games. I haven't the time." Salman sighs with obvious frustration. "Who are you and what do you want?"

"Right... You just look... Familiar." Kristoff murmurs. "Ahem... Well... I'm Captain Kristoff Mayweather, my Lord."

Stepping further into the Lord's study, the human Captain sniffs the air. It's obvious to the lovers that the odor of their passion lingers heavily in the closed room. Kristoff turns his eyes toward Mairlynn, who winces from soreness as she very slowly takes a seat in a nearby chair.

"Heh... I didn't know you were into the young ones." Captain Mayweather remarks with a smirk.

The elven woman's face immediately turns red by the slight, angering Salman.

"She's a Falmun, and she's a grown woman, so keep your worthless opinions to yourself, Captain!" Salman growls.

"Apologies, my Lord."

"Now start talking and stop wasting my time!"

Kristoff and Mairlynn both raise their brows, though for different reasons. Mairlynn hasn't ever heard Salman raise his voice, even when his cook accidentally burned his steak the other day. Salman still ate it; he's the epitome of politeness and calm.

"You do know who I am, don't you?" Kristoff asks.

"Yes."

"I'm a Captain of the_Crown_... I serve your King..."

"I'm well aware of that, but that doesn't give you permission to disrespect a Lord or his Lady."

Mairlynn's face flushes.

"In fact, I demand you apologize to her for your assumption!"

"... You can't be serious."

"There's the door. Goodbye!" Salman turns his back on the Captain.

"Alright! ... I'm sorry, miss. That was rude of me to say, and I apologize." Kristoff speaks through gritted teeth.

"Thank you! Accepted!" Mairlynn chirps.

"Now then!" Salman claps his hands together and turns toward Kristoff. "How may I help you?"

"There's a ship in your harbor that I think we should discuss..."

Gathered together in the dining hall, well away from the study and Captain Mayweather's prying eyes, the crew wait in silence. They'd planned for this moment ever since their first night in the castle -even Salman suggested they do as much - but with their pursuers so close, all of them are on edge. Salasha scrapes her claws between her front teeth, a nervous tic she's had since childhood. Naemen's fingers flex over the handle of a leaf-shaped, steel sword, a gift from Salman himself. Steingar, Kirsta and Valan all check their pistols, while Valan stands near Irzain, in a far corner of the room.

Lutala sits at the dinner table and comforts Roak, making certain that the mentally handicapped human doesn't panic and alert anyone; the castle guards have been sworn to aid them, and stand a silent watch in the hallway, spears in-hand.

"Just when I finally remembered something real, something important..." Irzain quietly sighs.

"We're not dead yet." Kirsta replies.

"And we won't be anytime soon, not with Salman on our side." Valan adds.

"You really trust him?" Steingar turns to his friend.

"Yeah. I do."

"Why?"

"Don't ask me to explain... It's a feeling." Valan murmurs.

"I believe him." Naemen remarks.

"Oh, I'm so relieved to hear that. The world feels right as rain, because Naemen said it's okay." Steingar scoffs.

"Asshole..." Naemen growls.

"I believe him, too." Lutala chimes in.

"Salman isn't the kind of man to betray people... He's too pure." Kirsta's lips curl into a little smile.

"You're just saying that because you want to bed him."

"Asshole..." Kirsta grumbles, her face flushing.

"I don't believe that he'd betray us, and certainly not Val. They're bonded, and by more than just blood. Sharing a womb is as close as two people can possibly be." Salasha adds.

"I can think of closer things." Steingar smirks.

His glowing, golden eyes turn down and focus on the half breed's crotch. Salasha sees his lustful stare. Her green skin darkens as she flushes. Resting a clawed hand over her groin, she turns away, revealing her disgust as she glares at him. Steingar, amused by her reaction, lets out a low chuckle.

"Asshole..." She murmurs.

"Don't even start, you son of a-"

"Shut up, you two..." Kirsta growls, interrupting Naemen. "I think I hear something..."

Footfalls echo faintly throughout the hallway; people are walking down the grand staircase.

"And you're _certain_that you haven't seen them? No one came asking for food or shelter?" Captain Mayweather asks, an impatient tone in his voice.

"Did I misspeak? If they're here, they're in the town, and you're free to search it, so long as you respect my subjects as you do so."

"It's just that we've already searched the town, and we're very thorough." Kristoff replies.

"I have a few heads shorter than ten thousand subjects. Your ship, while fast and dangerous, is modest. I'd go so far as to call her 'scrawny'; I doubt you have the manpower aboard that vessel to search my town to your liking." Salman chuckles.

"You'd be surprised."

"In any case, they aren't here. This castle is home only to me, my guards, a few servants, and my Lady." Salman replies, draping an arm over Mairlynn's shoulders.

"Very well... Have a good day, my Lord." Captain Mayweather bows.

"You as well. Safe travels!"

Salman and Mairlynn turn around, heading back up the stairs. After watching the pair walking away, Captain Mayweather turns back. He looks down a hall, seeing a few soldiers with spears standing at attention. Narrowing his eyes, he heads for the hallway, leaving the front door wide open as he instead explores the castle. Hearing his footfalls, Salman and Mairlynn pause. They turn back, peering over the stone railing of the grand staircase. Moving toward the hallway and closing in on the dining hall, the soldiers take notice. They turn toward him and lower their spears.

"Stop, right there!" One shouts.

Kirsta looks back at the others. Naemen quietly draws his sword, while Steingar aims a pistol at the door.

"The castle isn't open to strangers!"

"Perhaps you didn't see my armor? I'm a higher rank than you." Captain Mayweather confidently replies.

"And we're not in the Crown's army. We only serve Lord Donogew, now get lost or else!"

"Listen, I'm just... Looking for the privy!" Kristoff swiftly lies. "May I look for it? I'll be quick."

"There's another privy at the far end of the castle."

"Oh! So, there's one back there?!"

The guards look amongst themselves for a moment, realizing their error right away.

"May I just use that one?" Kristoff asks with a startling politeness. "It's right there."

"Well, uhm..."

"We're not... Sure if..."

As the guards make a feeble effort to stall for time, Salman storms up to the Captain. He reaches out and slaps a hand on Kristoff's left pauldron, clanking the metal and startling the shorter, blond-haired human.

"My Lord!" He chirps, looking back at Salman.

"What're you doing?" Salman asks in an eerily monotone voice, staring blankly at the Captain.

"I was just-"

"I told you to leave. Are you willfully deaf, or do you have a condition I'm not aware of?"

As Mairlynn approaches Salman, accompanied by nearly a dozen armed guards, Kristoff knows he's been caught.

"Look, I know they're here. There's nowhere else they can be. Just make it easy for all of us."

"Here's what happens now..." Salman growls, stepping closer to the Captain. "You take your crew, board your ship and leave. If you don't sail out of sight of my island and my subjects, I'll consider you a threat, and sink you with cannon fire."

"You'd dare threaten his Royal Soldiers, and a Captain, no less?! You think that's going to work?!" A flabbergasted Kristoff snickers.

"Of course it is! Once you're sunk, I'll simply deny ever seeing you. How will they know different? You'll be at the bottom! If you go back to your masters like the dog you are and tell them what I've just said, I'll simply deny it. Who do you think they're going to believe? You?! Some high-strung, overworked Captain, with a chip on his shoulder? Or do you think they'd trust me, instead? I'm a Lord, a nobleman, and both a loyal and valuable servant of the Crown. You've lost, so go back to your ship and do just that..."

"Spoken like a noble..."

Taking a step closer, the tip of Captain Mayweather's nose nearly touches Salman's as the men glare at each other.

"This isn't over..."

With that, Captain Mayweather brushes past the Lord, storms by his Lady and the guards, and leaves the castle in a huff.

"That was close..." Mairlynn turns to Salman.

"Yeah..." Salman sighs. "Post some men atop the tower with telescopes. Let me know as soon as that man and his ship are beyond the horizon. If they don't sail away within the hour... Kill them."

"Yes, my Lord!"

Salman looks greatly troubled by his own command, his brow softening as he turns away from the front door. With the coast clear, Salman's loyal guards open the dining hall. The crew of the Arona-Dahl pour out.

"Thanks, brother." Valan says, standing before his twin.

"Yeah... Don't worry about it."

"That won't work for long, though. He'll be back, and with others. More ships, more men, actual authority." Steingar remarks.

"He's right. We have to leave." Jarae adds.

"Run, run, run! Run from the bad man! Swim if we must!" Roak exclaims.

"And go where?!" Naemen growls.

"I know where..."

Everyone's attention turns to Irzain, who slowly steps forward.

"Whatever the Crown wants from me, I now know where to find it. I don't know what it is, or if it'll even help us, but I know one thing..."

"What's that?" Salasha asks.

"They don't know where it is! If we wait until they leave, and then head straight there, we should be fine, at least for a little while." He explains.

"Sounds like a plan to me." Steingar nods.

"Then maybe we'll _finally_have some real answers." Kirsta remarks.

"Do you have any maps? I'd like to see them." Irzain turns to Salman.

"I certainly do. You can show us where we're going."

The crew freeze at his words, staring at the Lord with strange, even horrified looks.

"What?" He turns back at the group.

"Did you just? ..." Jarae remarks.

"I think he meant 'where you're going'." Kirsta turns to the others.

"No, I meant what I said."

"Brother... Sal, I don't think-"

"Don't start." Salman swiftly interrupts Valan. "I've spent thirty years never knowing you existed, but always sensing it. I used to look at the sea and wonder why I wanted to go out there, like there was something I needed to find. Now, suddenly, here you are, and I don't feel that urge anymore. Don't ask me to sit by and let you and your friends sail away to who knows where, with the Crown on your tail. I want to know what this is all about, and I want to be there for you when you need me."

"Perhaps this is unwise? Please, ponder your decision; you're a Lord, and you have people here who need you." Lutala speaks calmly, slowly approaching the human.

"Yeah! This isn't some luxury cruise!" Steingar scoffs.

"Ship life is harsh, my Lord!" Naemen adds, with an obviously mocking tone.

Lutala looks back at the pair, glaring with frustration at their tactless approach.

"I'll manage. I'm stronger than I look. Besides, I can make Nazir the Steward! I hardly do anything of consequence anyway; Mishgan will be fine without me, if only for a little while."

Unphased and wearing a perpetual smile, Salman carries on as if they'd never questioned him. Fetching Nazir, the old Falmun is equally shocked by the suggestion. Completely ignoring his new role as Steward of Mishgan, he begs the Lord to stay. Still, Salman refuses to listen to anyone and insists upon joining Valan and the others. Eventually, the crew have no choice but to relent. They give in to the Lord's will, right around the time that Captain Mayweather's Sloop Of War sails out of Mishgan's modest harbor. With the Arona-Dahl thoroughly stocked and ready to sail, all they need to do is wait.

Standing on the main deck and now wearing much simpler clothes, Salman leans against the rails of the craft. Many of his people watch, and a crowd of nearly two thousand sees them off. With smoke billowing out of the chimney, the Arona-Dahl heads for the open ocean. Her steam engine roars to life, fed by the fuel that Salman had given her. Approaching the Lord, Valan stands beside his brother, watching the island of Mishgan slowly shrinking.

"Hey there."

"Hello, brother." Salman replies.

"So, where's Mairlynn?"

"Doing something with the quarters. She sounded eager to move into my new cabin."

"I can imagine." Valan smirks.

He glances toward Salman, looking him over for a moment.

"Are you _absolutely sure_that you want to do this? It's not too late; we can turn back and drop you off."

"Yes, I'm certain. I'm helping you, Val, so get used to it."

"I'm just worried about you, Sal..."

"Now you know how I feel. Why do you think I'm here?" Salman grins. "Don't worry, Val. Everything's going to be fine..."