After plating the last filet of salmon, Fin noted both Bruce and Stanley standing by the galley exit with their hands folded over their fronts. Knowing what this meant, he slowly placed his knife down, and removed his apron.

“Have either of you met the Troivackian King?” the redhead asked while placing his hands on his hips.

“No. Neither of us have had the honor,” Bruce answered shortly.

“Will I come out of the meeting alive? Or will my father serve me as the main course for your dinner? I’m not sure how practical a spit would be on a ship, but I imagine it’s still possible...”

“Depends… his highness is not always predictable,” Stanley explained with the smallest of shrugs. Oddly, the man did not appear all that pleased with the notion of the redhead’s death…

“Death by fire it is.” Glancing out the round window to his right, Fin did his best to appreciate the beautiful shimmering water that spanned as far as the eye could see, knowing that it might be the last beautiful thing he could behold.

“Are you truly satisfied to die?” Bruce interjected suddenly, his puzzled expression negating some of the condescension in his tone.

Fin turned and tried to smile at the man, only to fail miserably. In truth, he hadn’t accomplished as much as he wanted when it came to gaining intel on Troivackia’s plans to attack, and wished his efforts to be more… pliable with his captors had earned him at least the knowledge of which secondary city they were going to begin their attacks with, what were their exact numbers, were their planted soldiers all instructed to attack on the same day?

As he strode out of the galley, Fin noticed a slightly smaller ship had pulled alongside their own, and a lifeboat had been prepared on deck where his father and the captain of the vessel waited with a man he had not met before.

“Another spectacular meal, my boy! It was a fine lunch!” the captain greeted before turning to the newcomer. “Mr. Kraft, this is Mr. Helmer’s son. Finlay, this is your father’s assistant. He has been busy reviewing paperwork regarding the coming siege of-” A sharp look from Aidan had the man clamping his mouth shut.

The redhead raised an eyebrow but turned his attention to the slim Troivackian man beside his father. He wasn’t quite as tall as the Daxarian witch, but he had intriguing eyes. The left was a dark brown with a splattering of gray, while the right was a bright blue with flecks of light green and gold. His face was a mask of indifference as the redhead blatantly studied his face.

“Mr. Kraft here is a deficient witch just like yourself, Fin,” Aidan explained while noting his son’s careful examination of the assistant.

The redhead procured his hand to the fellow witch, who ignored it while studying him in turn with his head tilted over his shoulder.

“Are you certain he’s a witch?” Mr. Kraft asked as his eyes began to shimmer.

Unable to hide his shock, Fin’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you… are you able to identify abilities?”

“Sharp just like the man who sired you, hm?” Aidan clapped a hand onto the cook’s shoulder. “Mr. Kraft here can see a witch’s power as though they were using their full abilities. It’s handy knowing someone’s power level and element.”

Fin still hadn’t managed to school his expression, when the assistant suddenly grasped his outstretched hand.

All at once, it felt as though the cook had been stripped down and he couldn’t hide an inch of himself. The shimmering in Mr. Kraft’s eyes intensified, and the man’s apathetic expression melted into one of astonishment. Slowly, he released Fin’s hand, and straightened his shoulders before going completely still.

Aidan chuckled after a moment of silence passed between his son and assistant. “If I didn’t know better, Mr. Kraft, I’d say it was love at first sight. Sorry to say Fin, my assistant is more interested in the fairer sex.”

The assistant’s gaze hadn’t moved from the redhead despite his superior addressing him, and for whatever reason, Fin felt as though he were holding his breath.

“Mr. Kraft?” Aidan’s voice had turned wary, making the man blink at long last before turning to the Troivackian Chief of Military.

“Do not let this man return to Daxaria.” Mr. Kraft’s hard stare made Aidan hesitate for a moment with a small frown before glancing briefly at Fin.

“That was never the plan Mr. Kraft, so there is no need to worry. Now, shall we? His Highness is waiting.”

The assistant managed to give a small bow of his head before climbing aboard the lifeboat.

Fin followed suit while trying to shake off the peculiar encounter he had just experienced and ignoring his father’s troubled expression.

It wasn’t until the lifeboat had safely been lowered onto the water, that the redhead even remembered to be anxious as one of the Troivackian soldiers began to row them over to the King’s ship.

The sky was beginning to grow overcast, and the water that had been calm an hour before was starting to become somewhat choppier. Casting his sights to the distance to try and view whether or not another storm was on its way, Fin then noticed the Troivackian merchant ship that seemed to have drawn closer to them that morning, while also looking for the fishing boat that had been also been spotted again earlier that day.

“Suspicious how those two boats haven’t left our sights,” Mr. Kraft suddenly noted as though reading Fin’s thoughts.

“It is indeed, but I can handle them if the Daxarian King thinks they may interfere,” Aidan remarked casually. He clearly wasn’t overly worried about any potential interference. “Though it would be odd that the King would invest such resources for the sake of a cook.”

“From what I’ve seen, I don’t think it’s that strange at all.” The assistant’s gaze was once again fixed on Fin, making him lean back and fold his arms over his chest subconsciously.

Aidan turned to Mr. Kraft, clearly annoyed. “If you’re going to keep behaving so peculiar I’ll ask; what did you see? I thought you couldn’t see anything around him.”

“That’s because his power has compiled within his being. Once I shook his hand I could see it on him. It’s as though he’s sucked it all in and has locked it away. The power I saw…” Mr. Kraft’s eyes rippled again. “Was unlike anything I’ve ever seen from a deficient witch.”

Clearly displeased with this report, the Chief of Troivackian Military’s gaze shifted over to Fin, his expression hard and appraising. “It doesn’t matter if he’s useless the second he is outside of his beloved home.”

Fin gave a single shoulder shrug. He didn’t really feel the need to defend himself.

Not to mention he was slightly more preoccupied with his pending death…

So the rest of the boat ride passed in silence, each man deep in thought over matters that strangely had nothing to do with meeting a member of royalty within an hour.

*

The faces of the Knights that stared at Fin were far less complacent than the soldiers aboard his father’s vessel. Every man present stared at him coldly, as though ready at any moment to relieve his neck of his head.

Aidan stepped forward and bowed, before straightening and fixing the men with his charcoal gaze.

“Is his majesty below deck?” the fire witch asked as waves of heat began to roll off of him, making the Knights that failed to greet him involuntarily wince.

“His highness is in his cabin. He wants to speak with the cook alone,” one Knight replied gruffly, which succeeded in making Aidan frown.

“Why does he need him alone?”

Neither of the men that had stepped forward to acknowledge the fire witch answered.

Fin however, stepped closer while pressing his hands into his pockets.

“Are you two escorting me or-”

Aidan’s hand shot out, grabbing his son by the front of his tunic and jerking him towards himself.

“You will be courteous, and you will stand up straight. Understand?” The fire witch’s quiet words were laced with implicit threat as the redhead fought off the urge to land a blow of his own on his father’s family jewels. The Knights watched completely nonplussed.

Fin shot a brief glance at his Aidan before turning back to the military men, who met his gaze straight on.

“Come with us.”

The cook stood perfectly until his father eventually released the front of his tunic, and allowed him to follow the men.

One of the Knights had already begun marching across the deck,while the second waited for the redhead to walk past him, then proceeded to follow behind.

They guided the cook over to the steps that led down into the ship’s cabins, all while passing impressively massive soldiers and Knights who were silent, but watched closely as the Daxarian was escorted by.

After descending below deck, Fin walked to the end of a long narrow passage, and halted before a door at the end, while the Knight at his front knocked.

“Your Majesty, Mr. Helmer’s son is here to meet with you.”

“Send him in.” The deep baritone voice that resonated from behind the door had Fin stand a little straighter without it being a conscious decision. The Knight that had knocked then stepped clear of the door, and immediately rested his hand on the hilt of his sword strapped to his side.

Slowly, Fin stepped forward, and grasping the handle, pushed the door open to reveal the master cabin.

It’s back wall was made of windows, and underneath was what looked like a comfortable bed. There were shelves along the entire perimeter of the room, and a fine rug that nearly covered the entire floor space laid under his feet. At the centre, was a round table with a map spread out, and sitting beside it facing the cook, was the Troiackian King.

Fin stepped in and closed the door behind himself before bowing and straightening.

“Your Highness, I am Finlay Ashowan of Daxaria.”

The monarch was a large man, like almost all Troivackians, but his black beard was cropped close to his jaw, and his handsome face a mask of complete control. His dark eyes surveyed the redhead without betraying a single thought. A beautiful sword lay on the table within reach, and judging from the powerful build of the man, Fin had no doubts that he could wield the weapon masterfully.

The witch stood waiting for the ruler to say something, and after several moments began wondering if it were rude to continue staring directly at him, or if it would be better for him to gaze around the room.

“You’re nothing like your father, are you?” The calm voice startled Fin out of his steady stream of panicked thoughts.

“Aside from looks, I don’t believe so. Though admittedly, my mother believes my stubbornness comes from him…” The redhead hadn’t the faintest idea why he would even mention such a thing, as his heart raced and stomach twisted.

“I see.”

As the King slowly stood, he reached over and grasped his sword. “I hear that you are the spy who had ears in my court.”

“So they say,” Fin managed while feeling a trickle of sweat run down his back as every muscle in his body remained tense.

“So they say? Are you going to hold your silence until the end?” The King began strapping the sword to his side, making Fin nearly let out an audible sigh of relief.

Matthias fixed the witch with his dark gaze before turning and strolling over to his window, already aware that the redhead had no intention of answering.

“If I were to hazard a guess, Mr. Ashowan, I do not believe you are the spy.” Picking up a crystal bottle that clearly held Troivackian moonshine, the King poured himself a hefty drink in his goblet. “Your father has already relayed your response to me that you will not be joining him in Troivackia.”

The witch remained silent. He wasn’t at all certain if he was supposed to reply to any of the King’s words.

The monarch slowly returned to the centre of the cabin, and gently set the goblet on the table before he turned, and pummeled a mighty blow into the Fin’s gut, immediately cracking a rib and bringing him to his knees, unable to draw a proper breath.

“Now, you are going to answer my questions truthfully.”

Fin felt the sting of a cold blade at the back of his neck, and immediately felt his heart skip several beats.

“What is your father’s weakness?”

Still working on getting air back into his lungs, the witch took a moment to answer, only to feel the edge of the blade rest more heavily against the back of his neck.

“He’s a fire witch… so his counter-element… is water,” Fin finally managed to gasp out beneath the pain.

“So, if he were to be deposited in the middle of the ocean there is nothing he could do?”

“Yes. Though, I tried that once and he still somehow survived.” The blade left Fin’s neck and the King’s boots appeared in his line of view from the floor.

“How did you manage that? I was under the impression he hasn’t seen you in years.”

Slowly, Fin gradually straightened, wincing as he did so before he began to move to stand, only for the edge of the King’s sword to appear against his throat.

Snapping his blue eyes upwards to the monarch, the witch noted that the man looked to be in complete control. There wasn’t an ounce of passion in his face as he plainly showed how easy it would be to continue hurting the redhead, or even to just kill him instantly.

“I shot him off the island we lived on when I was eight years old. Magically.”

The only movement in Matthais’ face was a black eyebrow that rose up. “I was also told you are not very powerful. Are you exaggerating this feat?”

“No. I’m a House Witch. I can only use magic in my home.” Fin watched as his words made the King frown and take a step back.

“The implications of your magic I would like to ask you more about; however, we are pressed for time. I have summoned you to offer you a deal, Mr. Ashowan.”

A strange pull at the back of Fin’s mind made his vision go blurry for a moment, making him blink rapidly and frown in an attempt to focus on the King.

“What is happening to your eyes?” Matthias demanded when he noticed a strange milky film begin to sweep through the redhead’s gaze.

“I… I don’t know…” Fin closed his eyes and shook his head trying to clear his sight, when all of a sudden his vision turned inwards, and he found himself suddenly staring at Annika.

She was sitting in the council room back in Daxaria, and she looked… terrified. She was terrified, Fin suddenly could feel her fear and worry as dark shapes around her that he couldn’t see clearly spoke to her…

A sudden pain tore through his chest made him cry out, pulling him from his vision, yet just before he lost sight of her for good, Fin realized that Annika had turned and looked directly at him, and had screamed…

When his vision cleared and had once again returned to the ship, the redhead found himself lying on the cabin floor, blood pooling from his chest as the King’s black polished boots faced him.

“You can’t magic your way out of this situation, Mr. Ashowan. Casting spells on me with your unnatural gaze is not acceptable.” Matthias crouched down until he could make eye contact with the redhead whose face was draining of more color with every weakened beat of his heart. “Death’s carriage comes for us all one way or another. I had been about to offer you your life should you kill your father for me, but alas, your witchcraft has made me uncertain. If you survive this wound, I might consider it a sign from the Gods to make you this offer again, but… time will tell. You bear death with dignity, which is more than I can say for most men, you have my respect,” the King admonished calmly as he watched the life ebb from the witch’s eyes.

Fin, unable to speak, felt his body growing colder, and his vision was beginning to darken as the pain wracked his body, nullifying almost any coherent thought, but as his grasp on the mortal world began to weaken, he managed to spare two final thoughts.

‘Annika… I’m so sorry…’ Then, reaching out to the tendril of connection between him and his familiar that was already beginning to fade, he tried to relay what was most likely his final request. ‘Kraken? Please take good care of my wife and my mother… please…’