Theurgy: Forsaken Oaths (Book Two)

Chapter 54 Aphrodi'Sia

     Moxie looked into the Antalya Harbor. The docks were packed with dozens, no hundreds, of vessels crammed together. She had not heard of any news of increased traffic to this port, despite the announcement of the Empire's investment in the area. Her fleet of artisans, workers, and architects is still weeks away, just sailing from Hath to aid in the decrepit city's reconstruction. She took out her telescope to hopefully get a better look. She could see people on the docks dancing ad drinking, sailors in jubilation upon their vessels. With this such little space, it would be nearly impossible for many of those sailors to leave port. At the very least , it will make it hard for her Warhog Battleship to make dock here. She couldn't make heads or tails of what she is meant to think about this. Blij caught on to this and ordered for them to be anchored here off of the shore.

"Are there any festivals or what have you we are unaware of?" he asked, gesturing to the city.

"No," she said, handing him the telescope so that he could get a better look. "Not that I'm aware of."

"The godslayers are to return in a few days," Blij said. "That's what Mr. John said, yes?"

"Right," Moxie looked to the horizon. "Something feels . . . off."

"You don't think that he fled here?" Blij sighed, setting down the telescope.

Her eyes drifted to his expectant stare. They have not found a single sign of Vance since his escape from prison, and if he's as intelligent as he thinks he is he will do his best to stay as inconspicuous as possible. Even still, a place like this would prove almost impossible to navigate through and find answers. She ordered for a rowboat to be cast so that she could talk with whoever was in charge here, Captain Vivian, as she could recall. She will only take a handful of men, they weren't looking for trouble anyway. While her crew prepared for what may be a long wait, she went below to her quarters. She looked once more upon the glass display case on her wall. Within were the twin pistols she stole from her father years ago, and the saber that once belonged to her mother. She would stare at this memorabilia for minutes, contemplating their nature. Something inside of her told her that these things should be destroyed. And yet, another argues that they could be used for good, instead. That the reasons for their creations do not dictate what good can be done with them.

"Are you sure about this?" Blij asked her. "We can wait here for the godslayers to come back."

"It's just a little talk," she said. She took a deep breath and opened the case, pulling out one of the pistols. It was a gorgeous make, one of the few revolvers in the world besides just a handful in the prototype phase. She created her own pistols off of her father's original designs. But she knew that nothing could beat the efficiency that the madman could cultivate in his alchemical touch. She took one from its display and replaced it with hers. She checked the cylinder, inside six bullets with runic inscriptions waited to be fired on command. She snapped it back into place and began to scan the sights.

"Hopefully I won't need this," she said. "But we do not know what enemies lay and wait here for godslayers. I'll be quick, but if I am not back within the day, do not come for me, Blij. Wait for the godslayers, alright?"

"As you wish," Blij bowed to her. Then stepped forward to pull her into a hug. It was brief, but it gave an apparent blessing of trust that Blij had for her. She nodded, then set off for the mainland. The Nautilus Omega loomed over every other ship in the harbor. She could probably still see it clearly over the very low-story buildings of the small city. Blij had to watch her recede into an unrecognizable dot floating on the shallow sea as they searched for a safe place to dock. Immediately Moxie's senses were on full alert. Something in the air, beyond the salt and stale spices mixed with the breeze. The smells of sickly sweet flowers and perfume wafted over everything. As they pulled themselves ashore the smell only got worse. It was probably not too unpleasant for regular people, but her heightened sense of smell was basically overwhelmed by the aroma. The loud thunderous wailing of several different instruments did not help, as every corner seemed to harbor a small band of sorts performing for an energetic crowd. They did their best navigating the streets towards the small fortress where the military police are supposed to reside. But the many parades of revelers made the simple street layouts confusing and chaotic. She had to keep her men in check as prostitutes often approached them promising good times. Perhaps on a different day, she would be in the mood, but something was unsettling her.