On his right was the blocks of houses, to the top was a flowing spring that fell down a pool. This pool was crystal clear, and there was a picket fence surrounding the pool. On the left side of the cavern seemed to be a military bastion where the soldiers were marching to. The streets of the Cavern made of natural asphalt that had been flattened. On the side of the road, he saw curious eyes. Hawkers, kids, riflemen, were watching the rooftop. Bystanders and bakers handed baskets of baked bread to the women.

There was a hand-pulled wagon on the side of the road. A smell of blood mixed with mud was on the air. And there was corpse-bearer standing on the side. Watching the escort group with glazed eyes. His eyes were looking around in hysteria, nails scratching the forearms.

The Escort continued until it reached the bastion. Located on the inner west of the Cavern of Tascam Point’s have. Was the place where they manned the Bastion. From the entrance, one could see another staircase and ramp. Gabrio and Zyra went to the topmost floor of the bastion. They encountered a series of rooms decorated with tools and necessary furniture. Like a desk, chair, and a weapon rack. On the desk was a middle-aged man with black veins around his body, laid flat.

“Poison again,” Gabrio said. “Have you tried asking the Lady?”

The man behind Gabrio frowned, eyes squinted, he started hissing. “You want us to beg for mercy to the long-ears?”

“No, I was asking. Calm down,” Gabrio said, turning to Zyra, whose eyes were examining the man on the desk. She lifted his hand and tapped on the back of his hand.

“Different poison,” Zyra said, placing the hand back, “his wounds are not turning necrotic. Feverish as well as, hotter than normal, and he’s not breathing normally.”

“What did this?”

“Dread-Kin, what do you think?”

The man was uncooperative, Gabrio tapped on the pistols on his belt, his gloved hand itching. The man looked Gabrio in the eyes and then nodded. “That’s all we know. And this poison is different from what we are used to. It’s slow, he shouldn’t be alive.”

Gabrio took out his nitre spirits, water, and asked Zyra to lift the back of the man’s head. The man drank the liquid, wheezed, and swallowed a mouthful of air. He then took the burnt wine from his satchel, uncorked it, and made middle-aged man drink it.

“How in the fuck is wine going to help?”

“Eases the pain, relaxes the nerves, and would you kindly watch?”

“You are telling me to leave?”

Gabrio mopped his face. “Be silent, will you? Where is his wound?”

Gabrio cut his formal military dress and opened his top. Chest hair, battle wounds, and scarring below the right breast. Below his left armpit, a two finger-length bruise was leaking greenish, opaque liquid. Then above his navel was two serpent-like bites the size of a button.

Surgery was not a strong point of Gabrio. For the supposed student of the Surgeon of Fort Rava. He was not like his famed seniors who had attracted the eyes of Generals, Nobles, and Rich Merchants. Not to mention that they are not keen on making acquaintance to the last student of the Surgeon of Fort Rava. Gabrio was a nobody to them. A surgeon with the shadows of his mentor covering him.

The man before Gabrio was going to die. He had many infections. The burnt wine somehow calmed his painful muttering. The light in his eyes flicked as if it was going to extinguished.

Zyra lifted the man’s right arm. He acted as her assistant as she cut the poisoned flesh. He found that to be primitive, but it was a dead flesh, it had to be removed. She then placed the dead flesh on a wooden tray. Millie, the soon-to-be medicine woman, was doing her best to stay awake. Her flushed cheeks and pale face ridden with eyebags gave her a sense of strange beauty. Though her mentor, Zyra, had wrapped her braid around her neck like a scarf. She didn’t lose focus as she removed the wounded flesh, and scrubbed the pus-ridden flesh with a sponge.

He screamed like a stabbed pig. Millie, who was holding the tray, almost dropped the tray. Wiles caught her. For the tiredness, Wiles man felt. For guarding them all day without sleep, he was still attentive enough to catch Millie. The poor woman was blushing, red-faced. The officer watching the scene sniffed.

“Be careful!” Zyra scolded. “Drop the tray and I have you returned to the mainland!”

Zyra had none of it. Gabrio had done his best to keep a cold face while keeping up with Zyra. After that, Gabrio took out a round-bottomed flask from his satchel. Sucked in the liquid with his syringe, and administered the opiate in the man’s arm.

“He’s calmer than ever.”

“Opiate, from a poppy flower, I am sure you heard of it.”

“I know, quite addicting as well. You do not take it yourself, I hope?”

“Do I look addicted?”

She took one of her surgical knives, continuing her work. “No, I hope that you don’t. I’d fix you right up.”

“Sure, sure,” Gabrio shrugged, focused on making sure that the man wouldn’t move. While Zyra's surgical knife entered his poisoned flesh.

To treat envenomed wounds like this. An antidote doesn’t usually work. It could help in alleviating the problem, not solved it.

For the rest of the surgery. He had to cut the envenomed wounds around his thigh. Whatever attacked him left a scale-like needle that had burrowed on his thighs.

By the time they were finished. A Constable came to get them. The man’s breathing became normal. Although he was having a coughing fit, typical for a smoker.

“Hey, you should at least try not to smoke see?”

“What? You afraid I’ve been fat and balding like this man?”

“No?”

“Good,” she nodded. “Besides, I don’t want to stop at the moment. Not when we are going into that Dread Line. Do you still have some of that wine left?”

“Let’s go back to the Galleon, then have a drink.”

Was what they intended to do before they had to meet the Inquisitor. He had them report what had happened for about two hours. Then allowed them to go, hoping that he’d get a detailed report from us later. Gabrio plodded back to the cabin with heavy legs. Once his back was on the bed, he had fallen asleep.

After that day he didn't get out his beds unless it was time for meals. Gabrio stayed inside his cabin, writing a report for the Inquisitor. He also recollected his studies by rereading the tomes that his mentor had left him.

It was the 29th of the Third Cycle, of the Year 1500. When the Merchant Ships had left for the mainland. Leaving only a few gunboats surrounding the Ark, and four Caravels.

The path to the Dread Line was open for the grand fleet after it paid its toll. Most of the people who were not needed were in their cabins. Gabrio alongside Zyra went to the deck to observe the move inside the dread line.

Of course, there was nothing for them to do here other than watch. From below the deck, harpoon crates were being carried on the side of the ship. Black powder barrels were being placed next to the basilisks. The first one to enter the Dread Line was the Grand Galleon commanded by the Admiral. Which was then followed by the Carracks.

The Grand-Galleons then followed, with the Ark in the middle. Most of the sailors stared at the black pit of an ocean floor. The usually so clear ocean they could see the bottom was gone.

But from the fence railing of the ship, Gabrio could see none other than the bottomless pit of black. The thought of the unknown made the hair on his arms stood. Before the wind billowed, the mast’s sails flapped about. But upon entering the Dread Line, the wind became still.

With the ships stilled without the wind. The fleet became floating tubs in the middle of a Dreaded Sea. It was then that Gabrio heard a song that made his heart calm. Above the top castle of the ship, on the crow’s nest, was the Lady of the Ship, singing a song that he could not put to words. A song in a language he didn’t understand.

As she sang the song, the winds started to blow again, as if it was singing along. The ships started to move and even though she had reached out her hands to call for the wind. Her voice did not leave the air. From the side of the Galleon, he saw tiny creatures made of green light flying like curious children. They were looking at the people of the Galleon.

“What is this?” Zyra said, one of the creatures stood on her palm. “They are that of the wind?”

“They are of the wind,” Gabrio said to her. “I heard stories of this…but to see it before my eyes.”

It was beyond what Gabrio knew. He was one of the people who relied on the natural order. But to see Lady Eletha conjure such fair wind for everyone was breathtaking. He had no other word for it other than that it was mesmerizing. He continued staring at her figure on the roundhouse. Glowing with power as she commanded the spirits.

But then a scream took away the majesty of the voice. Far from the Galleons was a monster the size of a hill. Possessing grayscales and strange purplish-pink lines. Covered in moss and barnacles. The gigantic creature raised its neck, looking at the whole fleet.

Before the beast could howl. The roar of the artillery broke the air first. Followed by the Galleons and the ships turning broadside. The Captain started shouting orders, and the crew going to their stations. Within a few moments, the artillery rained fire on the beast.

The whole fleet created a wall of cannons. Gabrio covered his ears. He took cover in front of the Captain’s cabin with Zyra.

“FIREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

And with that declaration, hundreds of cannons fired towards the sea creature. From the top and side of the creature. A rain of steel and gunpowder started shredding the creature. The smoke covered the entirety of the sea. From the top of the crow’s nest. The one holding two small flags raised both of his flags above his head.

With those two flags raised the silence returned. The smoke started to clear. And what they saw was the creature covered with cannonballs and its scales falling off.

But it was alive.

Something burned inside that monster’s mouth. Like embers starting to burn.

Then a fireball the size of a boulder flew to one of the boats guarding the Ark, the gunboat immediately sunk. Gabrio looked back at the crow’s nest and saw the Signalman pointing both flags on the east. Another barrage of artillery and cannons fired on the monster. It’s deathly roar shaking the very air.

As the smokes died down again. The mighty beast of the Dread Line fell sideways. A cheer rose from the ships and even he couldn’t help but shout, but then it dawns on him. It didn’t have the black scales that those who have sailed the Dread Lines had said.

The Black Scaled Beasts were the true predators of The Dread Line.

While they killed one of the lowest beasts. The weakest among the Dread Line. The prey of the Predators. He turned his eyes to Zyra, she seemed to have realized it as well. Those purple and pink lines on the scales of the beast. He turned to the roundhouse located on top of the mast where Lady Eletha was watching the beast. A sense of pity, sadness, and weariness was on her face.

On the 29th Day of the Third Cycle of the Year 1500, of the Ghealach Calendar. The Grand Fleet of the Reconnoiter Company took a single step forward in the Dread Line.