ALL NOVEL Chapter-189 Campfire
The sun raced through its daily arc and the sunset came in mere hours. Stefan joined them on the island under the night sky, and the four sat around the campfire after skinning and preparing the horses, skewered slabs of meat stabbed on the ground near the fire. Its browning sizzles accompanied the crackling firewood and the flame tongues and set a tone of warmth and comfort, the blaze flickering their shadows behind.
“Did you feel any change, Lance?” Ewan asked, poking the meat to check its doneness, and keeping the ashes away from his.
“Not much, sir, I just feel more energetic,” Lance said. “Can I have more details on it, sir?”
“The path is named Reaper, it’s the Radon family’s legacy. They’re one of the four families who ruled Ashocan before, predecessors of Drarith,” Ewan said. “Other than that, you should know more about it than me.”
“I always thought only Severynths could have this power,” Lance murmured.
“Enlighten yourself then,” Kidd said. “I also have my own, it’s called ‘Master of Undead’.”
“Did you finally decide on one?” Ewan laughed.
“Willy and I compromised, this is our final name,” Kidd said.
“Nightwalker sounds better,” Stefan said, attending to the hissing slabs of meat.
Kidd’s eyes widened and glittered with stars; his breath quickened. “Nightwalker…Nightwalker…,” he muttered.
Ewan glanced at Stefan, but he showed no trace of melancholy or disappointment. He once asked for the spell circuit to become a Severynth, yet his age doomed him for failure, he’d long left the important years behind. So, a path that rivaled the Severynths and allowed him to walk on it must be what he yearned for.
However, though he said he wanted to live, he lacked the desire for life…
“Stefan, your soul is strong enough to be a Severynth, a Cerade even, we’ll find a suitable path for you too,” Ewan said.
Stefan smiled. “Did I make you worry? It’s fine, I don’t mind it, I enjoy traveling with you guys. Even if I remain a Kyron, I’ll just spend my life laughing and end it happily.”
“You changed a lot, you were so glum before, always babbling about how you have to live,” Kidd said. “By the way, I’m a Nightwalker from now on, its final, Willy agreed too.”
“Who’s Willy?” Lance asked.
“Another annoying brat, you’ll meet him soon enough,” Stefan chuckled and said.
“Hah, you threw the first punch, don’t blame me.” Kidd scoffed. “Boss, this fucker went to the church back in Drarith to become one of those metal-clad hunks but came back crying cuz got rejected.”
Stefan hurtled for Kidd, stumbling as he plunged forward, covering his mouth tightly. “N-Not true, I-I went there before I met you guys,” he stuttered.
Kidd peeled his hand away, barely getting his mouth free. “I already said it all, let go,” he said. And as Stefan loosened his grip…
“Boss, you were his second choice!” Kidd yawped again, and Stefan tackled him down.
“Lance, have you given it any thought?” Ewan asked, ignoring the two idiots. “What will you do from now on?”
“I apologize, sir, I haven’t decided yet,” Lance said.
“Well, we weren’t going to leave you on this island anyway. Tag along for now, decide what you want to do when we get to an inhabited place,” Ewan said. “The Reaper’s passive defense like our Varos should protect you from the sun, you don’t have to worry about turning into a human torch.”
“Didn’t you work for the Ensils? You can continue and become a mercenary,” Kidd said, getting back up after he wrestled away from Stefan.
“I didn’t work for them for Creliths, I wanted a name…,” Lance said under his breath.
“Meat’s cooked, let’s eat now,” Ewan said, biting into his share after blowing on it, and they all took theirs.
“Argh! It’s tough as fuck!” Kidd cried out, ripping a bite off the meat.
“It’s almost inedible,” Ewan said, chewing his bite nonstop.
“Try the baby horse, it should be tender,” Stefan said.
“Don’t waste anything, we killed them, we must eat them,” Ewan said, and the four struggled with their leathery dinner. The meat went into their stomachs, the Astylinds Cores went into the potions, and the other parts would be for Nana for her artifacts, they wasted nothing.
“Ewan, I rechecked the star map. The general direction of the egg falls on the same line, we don’t have to detour,” Stefan said.
“Okay, after we get the fuel, that will be our only stop,” Ewan said, the anxiety lingering at the back of his mind surfacing again.
“Don’t worry Boss, she must be fine.”
…..
The colorful sail sewed from their clothes and bed sheets caught the wind, and the Stormfalcon advanced as the mast groaned. For the sake of the joint’s lifespan, Stefan sacrificed the speed and focused on controlling the direction, and the makeshift implementation held strong, albeit cracking when the wind picked up.
Their next destination was the island that Nightingale marked before shutting down, Vestal. Ewan had already recorded its star map, and now Stefan was responsible for leading them to it. The invalidity of the outdated information watered the seed of hesitation in his mind, but they had to start somewhere, not to mention Vestal lay in the same general direction that Nana’s star map pointed towards. So, he kept his qualms to himself, and busied with his tasks—learning the new spells, brewing the potions, modifying his heart for the Elementalist, and making the Warship habitable.
After Stefan swept and mopped out the age-old dust and grime from the Warship, the four men worked on fixing the living quarters, the Potioneers’ chambers, and the lounge-cum-canteen on the middle floor first.
From the tail—the medical bay—towards the bow of the Warship, a long corridor parted the rooms in the living quarters, passed through the Potioneers’ chambers, and its end headed into a hall, the lounge with a kitchen attached. They had ample wood from the last island, but they still focused on the essentials—beds for the rooms, chairs and table for the Potioneers’ chambers and the lounge, and firewood for the kitchen.
And after days of toiling about, when the Warship became homelike, Vestal came up on the horizon, but it arrived with a raging storm.
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