Venture to Uncertainty (#1)

01 | The Anticipation of Uncertainty

PART I: THE AVOURIENNE

He should've been killing people, cold and emotionless. Instead, Archer was tossing fish back into the ocean and watching them swim off. It would be wasteful to kill the ones they wouldn't eat.

When the last one had swum away, he knotted the rope in his hand and dragged his boat back through the shallows, cool navy water on his feet. It wasn't the Cobalts, but these days, that was a good thing.

Hefting his bag of fish over his shoulder, he headed up towards the pier, where another fisherman was letting out a slew of curses after pricking his finger with a lure.

"Cillire!" Archer called to him. "Look at this." He lifted his bag. "That's six bluetails, old man."

"Oh, damn you, Kingsley," Cillire snapped. "Youth is all you got." He looked back down and yanked out the lure to another curse. He'd taught Archer to fish, and he never particularly liked a student surpassing his skill. "Screw the King," he muttered.

Grinning as he passed, Archer dropped two bluetails into Mr. Cillire's bag. The man would insist that he didn't take handouts, but that was only if he noticed, which he wouldn't. His eyes were bad, and Archer's hands were quick.

As he stepped off the pier and onto the stone, Archer reached up to straighten the welcome sign some of the younger kids had painted, barely holding on after the last nasty storm. It was slanted and they'd spelled Orphano wrong, but nobody arrived at this island ignorant of what it was, anyway.

A very specific brand of people arrived here, in fact, there were guidelines to find it at all. Orphano was an island that called to the abandoned, the parentless and the lost, luring them through danger to provide a safe home in the whimsical waters of Myria.

As he came into town, a flock of kids ran by playing some irritating island tag game. Archer managed to step out of the way but Katy, one of Orphano's best seamstresses, tripped on a loose stone as she tried to do the same. He just managed to reach out and catch her by the arm as he went by.

"Oh, look at that," he said, showing her the bag. "See what I've got?"

Katy shook her head as she steadied herself again. It was no secret that she'd rather drown than smell any sort of seafood. "That's awful," she said. "It reeks."

"Well, be careful now, it's also your dinner," he told her, letting go.

She wrinkled her nose after him. "Screw the King," she muttered.

A few people heard her say the phrase, so they shouted it back twice as loud. In lawless, leaderless Myria, the phrase was nothing but harmless.

Footing open a bright yellow door, Archer tossed his haul onto the first surface he saw. "Sharky!" he shouted.

A beefy man popped up abruptly from under the counter, but Archer did not flinch. Shark glared at the fish, then up at him. "That's a big bag," he said.

"That's right," Archer replied, leaning against the counter. "It's a feast tonight."

Shark bent down to sniff the catch. "You don't get this much if you stay close to the island. You'd have to go nearly to the border to get this much."

Archer shrugged. "The fish tastes better if it's stolen from the King. And I've always had a thing for turquoise water, Shark. Gives me a little thrill."

The cook reached out to give a disciplinary smack, but he was hiding child-like excitement. He lived for food, and fish was his favourite to make; he didn't care how it had been caught.

"Alright, alright." Archer ducked to avoid the cook's second smack and hurried out the door. He glanced up the street, catching sight of the red door.

He gave a long, aggressive sigh, for this was unavoidable. He made his way up the street, trying his best to hone his senses into concentrating. He pushed open the red door carefully, his body crouched and his arms at the ready. He glanced to his left, then to his right. All clear.