Originally Published- April 22nd 2023 on Ao3
Sif strolled through the stone corridors of Silverhold feeling his teeth grind together, and his brow furrow. His morning had been terrible, he had been so close. Just hair breaths away from his bounty but like that snake always did he slipped away like a poisonous shadow. Sif rubbed his temples trying to calm the headache that was brewing, the morning wasn’t a total disaster -the screams were quiet today at the very least- they’d managed to capture one of the man’s lieutenants -Journymans as that cursed syndicate called them.- He put on his best Captain face. He’d found in recent months that intimidation wasn’t always the way to go with criminals, Especially assassins. Sif turned through the door to the prison sector of Silverhold where the lieutenant languished.
Of course, he wasn’t actively languishing the man merely sat on the bench emotionless waiting for his execution. Storms, what do they do to these men? Sif always felt like all criminals and assassins had at least a little passion for what they do, but the journeymen they caught had never shown a hint of feeling. Almost like they’re already dead. Forcing the feeling of dread he always felt when looking at these emotionless men, he began the interrogation.
“‘Ey, ya mind answerin’ a few questions?” The man only glanced at Sif before returning to stare at nothing.
“Not up for talkin’? That’s fine jus’ blink once fer yes twice fer no,” The man didn’t respond in fact Sif wasn’t sure if he’d even seen the man blink at all. Sighing Sif rustled through his jacket pulling out a notebook and quill.
“Would you mind writin’ me some answers?” For the first time, the man seemed to ponder Sif’s question. The man nodded and grabbed the notebook and quill.
“Roight, so ferst what’s yer name?” The man wrote in the journal and showed it to Sif.
“Azer”
“So Azer, what made ya join the Syndicate,”
“Money”
“A common motivation, now what can ye tell me about yer leadership?”
“No one’s ever seen them. Called the Red Council”
“What about local leaders?” Sif smiled as the man wrote. Guess they aren’t as secretive as we’d thought.
“Name’s Architect Merlot, he’s hold up at Whitesummit”
Perfect. Sif thought the first true lead. They now knew the name of the infamous Waltz of Death. Sif thanked the man for his cooperation, apologizing for the execution he would face. The man just gave another emotionless stare.
Storms those folks are unsettling. Sif thought as he walked to a solitary office on the top floor of the fortress. He rapped on the old oak door.
“Come in,” a commanding voice answered. Commodore Kai, stood looking out over the ocean.
“Commodore Kai sir,” Sif said falling into a crisp salute. The man turned his stern but kind face meeting Sif’s.
“Pollux, at ease. Anything to report?”
“Yes sir, I’ve gathered the name and location of The Waltz of Death.” Kai’s eyes widened with surprise. For all the papers and rumors talking about the ruthless and stone-faced Commodore, Sif found him surprisingly emotive.
“And you’re sure this information is trustworthy?”
“I’m positive sir, came from one of his own journeymen. The one I caught this morning when… when I failed to catch The Waltz.” Sif felt a knot in his very soul at the failure, he was one of the best the Grand Navy had to offer these days. He shouldn’t be failing assignments. It seemed that Kai could see his inward shame. The man strolled forward and placed a hand on Sif’s shoulder. Sif forced himself not to wince at the touch.
“We all fail at times soldier, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re lucky to have made it out alive and with a captured combatant,”
“Still…”
“No more self-doubt today Pollux, that’s an order. Now let’s hear it with the information you gathered.” Sif relayed the information he gathered from Azer. Kai sat down, a bewildered expression on his face.
“All this time chasing him, to think he’s simply at Whitesummit,”
“It’s almost like ‘e’s tauntin’ us,” Sif said feeling venom rise from his chest. “Bein’ that close to Silver’old.”
“Diction son. But you aren’t incorrect, this is almost reckless on his part.”
“Well, no one ever said Assassins were the most stable persons,”
“Ha, true. Still, it seems illogical for someone who takes such great care for secrecy. I mean it should’ve been the first place we look.”
“Well no better place to hide a galleon than in a jar of ‘em, I mean them,”
“Quite. Well, what do you suppose we do soldier?”
“Me?” Sif fiddled with his lapels. He didn’t like being at the center of important decision-making.
“You were the one who discovered it seems natural that you should make the call of what to do,”
“I-I guess, but…” An idea formed in Sif’s mind. A bit reckless perhaps, but he didn’t have much to lose, and he needed to redeem himself from the morning’s blunder. “I’ll take him down, sir.” This earned him another shocked expression from the Commodore, he looked like he’d just swallowed a gallon of saltwater.
“Now son, I understand you’re upset about this morning; but I would advise you to reconsider. This man has taken down some of the most renowned heroes on the seas,”
“Well, I’ve taken down some of the most infamous villains on the seas. Except fer that son o’ a bachelor.” Kai studied him, a stern expression on his face.
“If you are truly certain about this I’ll give you leave and a crew, but if things start to go bad promise you’ll get out as soon as you can,”
“I promise sir.” Kai nodded as Sif left. Sif felt a glow enveloping him a second chance to catch this plague on the Bronze Seas.
Sif stepped out of the grand fort of Silverhold and down to its docks. There waited his grand ship, his pride, and joy The Fortune’s Favor. A fine ship by anyone’s measure made of strong spruce wood painted navy blue that was complimented by the bronze armor that reinforced it. It was manned by an even finer crew a few Ravennan deserters and Sif’s quarter master Edward Kenton.
“Afternoon Kenton,”
“Afternoon sir, sorry to hear about this morning.”
“Ah it’s foin, I’ve got another chance to find the snake,”
“You have sir?”
“Yep tell the men to lower the sails, we’re sailing for Whitesummit,” Kenton called the men to action, and soon enough Sif was at the helm sailing for the snow-capped mountain. Sif didn’t enjoy going there, for the most part, it was just people too destitute or touched in the head to live normally in society. They were usually pushed to crime out of necessity rather than seeking it out. The Navy for the most part felt the same way only sending soldiers for high-priority bounties. Bounties like Merlot.
Sif was still shocked at how quickly one could traverse the seas, he’d had the quiet impression that the seas should be bigger than they were. That puzzled him.
Perhaps the Nimbus Seas are larger? He thought Sif knew that was where he was from even if he only remembered his farm and his brother. However, Sif had more important things to tend to. Fortune’s Favor sliced through the water to their destination, and within the hour they’d arrived.