Chapter 94

Endborne Sea

“There they sat, spitting their tongues of flame, hissing, mocking, the snakes of rebellion! Oh, how I wished to quash their hearts!”

Fragments

Tall waves repeatedly battered the hull of a massive ship, one that spanned over four miles in length, beyond shocking to behold. The hull radiated a metallic luster that made it appear beyond majestic, its masts fluttering in the rigid wind, dyed dark black. Souls innumerable moved across the quarterdeck, some heaving over the edge of the hull and enjoying the breeze, and others hurrying about with their own tasks at hand.

Among them was a handsome-looking man with a yellowish tint to his skin, his blood-red eyes peering at the turbulent sea's waves in a daze, hand resting against his chin. He was clad in the most ordinary clothes, far removed from what he used to wear in the Palace.

How long has it been? Damian pondered inwardly, glancing up at the clouded, grey sky. It had to have been a year at the very least since that day – since the day his world came crashing down. It has been nine months since he had boarded the ship and set sails across the enormously vast Endborne Sea. As a matter of fact, he still didn’t know where exactly they were going. Just a few weeks ago, he had spotted a massive landmass toward the south, and thanks to the improbably tall structure, one that pierced the heavens, he had realized they just passed the Higheaven Empire.

They were moving further west, and with each passing day, he felt further and further away from his home… a home that has, by now, most likely perished underneath that wretch's flames. Damian would never forget the day his King died, the moment he saw that beautiful woman emboldened in light, and he would most certainly never forget the day the sky itself burned in crimson when the army invaded the capital of the Kingdom of the Kindled, his home – Lightveil.

So many had died that his mind was incapable of procuring a number, yet he had fled, like a coward. Instead of standing strong with his brothers and sisters, and dying amidst his family and friends, defending his home, he felt an irresistible pull – the image of that woman flashed in his mind repeatedly, and the dastardly whispers of the devil caused his will and resolve to melt… and for him to escape.

Since then, nothing like it occurred. He felt no more draw, heeded no more premonitions, and had come to a conclusion that it was all a mirage – that he was simply too fearful of death, and that his mind had concocted a story for him as a form of an excuse to abandon everything.

Sighing, he glanced back down at the sea, self-loathing at an all-time high. He'd contemplated tossing himself overboard countless times, dying within the raging waters… yet never dared. What would have been the point of escaping if he simply killed himself right after without achieving anything? At the very least, he'd promised himself, he'd return back home one day to assassinate the self-proclaimed Red Queen of Fire.

For now, however, all he could do was stew aboard the Hellhigh Ship, a monstrosity that had left him shellshocked once he landed his eyes on it. After a bit of poking around, he’d realized that the ship was a gift to the Northern Lands by the unspeakable powers at the very heart of the world. Any further inquiry could have resulted in immediate death, which was why Damian didn’t probe any further.

However, even that little information left him in a daze; if there was a power in the world that could gift a behemoth like this… just how weak was his own Kingdom that fell because of a single Witch?

"… you really are persistent," a melodic voice shook him as he glanced to his right where he saw a strange-looking woman approach him with a kind smile. This was the only person he'd shared more than three sentences with ever since boarding the ship, and he'd come to learn that her name was L’lrrula, a bizarre and terribly difficult name to pronounce, which was why he called her Lula. She was tall, even taller than him, nearly bordering six-foot-five, and was deceptively muscular. Her skin was tanned in the copper dye, and a pair of emerald eyes were even stranger, sporting two pupils, a smaller one in the shape of a star within the larger, circular one. "Every day, at the exact hour, brooding and smoldering." She chuckled, handing him a steaming bowl of ringray porridge. Though it was far from the diet he was used to, it was one of the more luxurious items available aboard the ship, which was why he was still shocked she was able to procure two portions every day… for three months straight now.

"…" he silently accepted the bowl and met her gaze, feeling it was strange once again. She didn't speak much about herself, and he'd only managed to learn that she comes from far East-South and that she was on the Conyul, which was her tribe’s word for a ‘journey’. “I ought to shake things up, to not become overtly predictable.” He reciprocated her smile, taking a sip of the porridge, feeling enlivened immediately after.

“Your predictability is actually one of your charms,” Lula chuckled. “After all, most men seem woefully incapable of consistency.”

“Shame on them.”

“Ha ha ha, shame on them indeed,” her laughter rang out like the sound of bells, yet was contained within her vicinity, almost like a form of magic. “You stare at the sea often. Anything piqued your interest?”

“… how big it is.” Damian said, eating another mouthful of porridge.

“… it is quite big,” Lula nodded. “As a matter of fact, it spans the whole Northern Hemisphere, only ending at the Frozen Edge.”

“Do you know why is it called Endborne?” Damian asked, glancing at her.

“… it depends on which legend you wish to believe,” she chuckled, glancing back at him. “The name itself is remnant of the ancient times… and some legends suppose it is a remnant from the first time the world ended. Apparently, the sea is bearing the responsibility of carrying over the secrets from that far away.”

“…”

“Another set of legends suppose the opposite,” she continued. “That the end of the world will stem from the sea, that it will swell in size and swallow the whole world.”

“… that would be one mighty sea.” Damian muttered.

“… it truly would,” Lula assented. “Though, as for whether any of these legends are true, none can be wise. It is true, however, that there are hosts of lifeforms inside the Endborne Sea that appear nowhere else in the world, each new one odder than the last.”

"…" Damian nodded faintly, remembering the strange carp-like fish he'd seen that was wholly red in hue, transparent, and had neither bones nor much besides the thin line he called 'flesh' – just a single, perfectly round sphere at the center of their bodies.

“… we should soon reach the Yo’ver Bay,” Lula said after brief silence between the two. “That will mark the end of my journey aboard this vessel.”

“…” Damian remained silent, though he did glance at her.

“If you have no business elsewhere, you are free to join me.” She said with a faint smile.

“Join you where?” Damian smiled back.

"The Holy Land of Kings," she said with a faint trace of reverence in her voice. "You may not know, but a great deal of explosive news has come from the Deserts and the Lakes of the Divine Five over the past year – a genius came to prominence in their midst, and built construct of such complexity that they left even the Divine Emperor awed. Rumor is that the genius is looking for people to assist him, which is why there is a huge number of people swelling toward the Land of Kings, just in hopes of becoming the assistants."

“…” though Lula spoke with fervor and even a sensation of blind faith, Damian merely humored her by nodding and smiling. How many geniuses had he seen? Was he not a genius himself? And how many complex constructs did the world behold? Was this ship not one of them? In the end, though, he had nothing else to do and no other goal to look forward to. As for the woman he saw… he was beginning to think even that was just his mind playing tricks on itself.

And even if it wasn’t, he had no clue as to where he should be looking – the world was devastatingly large, and he incomparably tiny.

“If you won’t mind,” he agreed in the end, figuring he may as well go and witness just how complex of a construct that genius created. “I’d be honored to join you, Lady Lula.”

“Ah, a charmer as always,” the woman chuckled, her pupils dilating slightly. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

“…” Damian smiled as he watched her leave, skipping along the deck. He finished the bowl of porridge and wished he had some wine to down it further with, but alcohol was a luxury he could not afford aboard the ship. He would be leaving soon enough, however, and he even began looking forward to it somewhat. Spending nearly a whole year aboard a ship… certainly wasn’t easy, even for him.