There were three other rooms on Diana’s floor I hadn’t checked yet. Maybe four, if there was a door I missed near the back of the boat, past the mast. The first was next to the door to Diana’s room, closer to the guards I’d seen camped yesterday. The other two were on the opposite edge of the vessel, doors parallel to their starboard counterparts.

Seeing as Diana hadn’t mentioned hearing anything from the next room over, It seemed more likely that her brother was along the opposite wall. Therefore, that’s where I decided to check first.

I repeated the tying of my makeshift harness I’d made yesterday in the empty cabin above my new target. Cabins on the guest floor were twice as large as the one I’d seen below, which meant that while this room had two windows, each one corresponded to a single cabin on the floor beneath. The plan was to be in and out just long enough to see if the man was okay before returning to the sister to reap the reward: food.

I would also try to convince the brother to pay me, of course. Hetis would be pissed if I didn’t.

Convinced at the stability of my safety line, I squeezed out a window for the third time since boarding the vessel. The ‘handholds’ covering the outside of the ship were just as helpful as they had been on the other side. Still, the precariousness of the journey wasn’t blunted by my previous experience as much as I’d have hoped, every gust of wind or unexpected creak grating my nerves like shins on cobblestone.

With time and a considerable amount of effort, I made it to the first window to check for my target. Learning from my mistake during the last attempt at checking a window, I waited and listened instead of peeking through and running face first into another person. It was lucky I had ran into Diana over a member of the crew, last time. The next time I made such a mistake, It was almost a certainty that I would be caught. There simply weren’t enough people on the ship left without a motive to turn me in.

It was hard to hear much of anything over the sound of the waves, breeze, and ship, but I did after some waiting. It sounded like the scratch of a writing utensil, the shuffling of parchment.

Things that were distinctly not the sounds of a prisoner.

Fingers on the edge of snapping, I pulled myself back up the hull to the upper floor window and practically fell in. I had cut my right hand’s ring finger at some point, a bead of blood welling next to what would soon be a true blister on the tip. The rest of my fingers were also worn down in a similar manner, skin looking red and abused where I’d gripped the wood.

I shook my hands and wiped the blood on the underside of the empty cabin’s mattress. It took me a minute to steady the shaking of my arms. I hadn’t done this much climbing in a long time. Between the boatside rappels and the initial climb onto the Ambassador’s ship, my back muscles had been worked to their limits, my hands torn and bruised.

One climb down. Two or three to go. The window adjacent to the one I’d just checked would be the most likely one to contain Diana’s brother.

I gathered my resolve once more, and shuffled to the other window. I had to re-tie my line, the rope stinging my agonized hands as I pulled it tight around a pillar built between ceiling and floor for structural stability.

The next descent was not as smooth as the previous.

It started going wrong only moments after I first came out of the window. The carved tapestry, which had supported me so well so far, gave way for the first time. I think it was a salamander I had stepped on, near the tip of the tail, the artistic appendage snapping and dropping me diagonally a solid four inches down the side before my foot scraped onto a new ridge by sheer luck. The close call shocked me into moving faster, and I started to get hasty.

The second mistake happened when I pressed my palm on a sharp ridge of an engraved boot, and brought my hand down before pulling away. The handhold splintered and embedded itself in my palm before prying free of the boat, leaving a two inch gash down the center of my hand. I pulled the wood out with my teeth and spit it into the water, wiping the blood on a pant leg.

I made it, somehow. Still, the traversal of those five feet had been so brutal I didn’t bother with caution, and swung my head around to the window, hoping for the best. I was more worried my grip wouldn’t last than the chance of someone looking out the window at that exact moment.

Within the room there was a young man in plain clothing, lying on his bed, facing away from the window. He looked vaguely familiar. I cheered internally.

“Are you August?” I asked, almost whispering.

He jumped at the sound and spun towards the window. It took him a moment to register the sight of me, before he responded.

“Yes.” August said.

“Good. Your sister says hi.” I said, sighing in relief. I pulled myself into the room as fast as my ruined hands would let me.

“Diana’s alive? Thank goodness. But who are you? How did you get in here?”

I explained my situation, how I met his sister. How me and my brother were sharing a room, unbeknownst to the crew.

“Is your last name Jirou?” I asked.

“Yes. We’re not part of the main branch, though. Diana doesn’t even have the Blood -”

“Too much.” I said irritably, cutting him off. “I’m not here for an info-dump, man. I just want to get paid. Your sister can do that if I help you two, right? Or you?”

The cut in my hand verged on dripping. I wrapped it in my shirt.

“I don’t know.” He said. “I think the palace was sacked. Maybe by the Emperor’s Ambassadors. I think the Elders did something.”

“Shit.” I said.

“I’m not even sure where we’re being taken.” August admitted.

I filled him in on what I knew about the journey, how our destination was the capital of the Domain, Jur, and that our next stop was the city of Selio.

“Back home?” He said. “Why there?”

I shrugged. I wasn’t going to pretend like I understood the situation.

The handle of the door to the room jiggled.

Wide eyed, I looked for a place to hide. There wasn’t one. Not on the inside of the cabin.

Adrenaline pumping, I vaulted over the windowsill, stretching my arms across its width and lowering myself blindly out. I searched for footholds on the outside of the boat, before realizing there were none. The carving ended above where my feet were.

“Shit!”

My hands burned as they gripped the edge of the window frame.

I heard the door open, and I made a choice. One I would regret immediately.

I let go.

The rope spiraled above me, still attached, winding out of the window a floor above. Then, without warning, I hit the water like a sack of bricks.

I considered myself a good swimmer. I’d grown up in a port city, and had been near or on water for most of my life. Nothing prepared me for this. I landed back first. Up and down lost meaning soon after.

The rope, still attached, had ended up wrapped around my left leg at some point. It ripped into the inside of my thigh as I was dragged by the massive sailboat. I was pulled, head beneath the waves, pain pulsing.

This went on for what felt like minutes. I took gasping breaths whenever my head broke the surface by chance. Some instinctual part of me told me to cut the rope, despite the rational side realizing it was my only lifeline. If I lost the rope, the ship would leave without me, and I would be stranded in the middle of the ocean. If that happened, I would paddle until I tired, and then?

I would drown.

By some miracle, I managed to spin the rope out of its deathgrip, and instead was pulled by my chest, the motion of the boat pulling me sideways like a stick tied to a string. I managed to get my knees up to my chest, rope between them. I moved to be pulled with my legs dragging behind me.

I wasn’t safe, though. My position wasn’t stable, and it took quite a bit of flailing to keep myself upright. The thing to do next hit me, though I could already feel my body protesting it.

I was going to have to drag myself back to the boat, and climb the rope back out of the sea.

“Shit.”

Hand over hand, I pulled myself up the rope. The wake of the boat fought me, waves splashing over my head and threatening the fate I would receive if I gave up. Between tears and grunts of exertion, I kept moving, feeling the shadow of crippling panic rolling up my back.

I made it to the point where the rope started to hang vertically out of the window, excess trailing in a loop behind me in the water.

Progress. Halfway, maybe. It was time for the harder half.

I moved my hands up the rope, pressing my bleeding thighs against it, and heaved. I was higher up, maybe three inches. I braced my feet against the rope once more.

“It’s fine, Gedric. You did this not even two nights ago. You can do it again.” I said, trying to prevent a psychological breakdown.

I moved up another inch. Then, another. I’d made it up maybe two excruciating feet when I found myself with a morale-crippling, life-ending problem:

I couldn’t climb any more.

It wasn’t a matter of willpower.

It was the rope tied to my chest. The weight of it was too much. Every time I tried to pull myself up, my bloodied hands would slide back down. I didn’t have the grip with the extra weight, and the slick surface from the water and blood was an untenable obstacle. I wasn’t even sure if I could make it up with it untied, but the way the extra was dragging in the water made it that much harder.

So, I did the only reasonable thing a human could do: I cried. I sobbed quietly as I clutched the rope that was both my lifeline and my final obstacle to continue living.

I already knew the truth. I just wasn’t ready to face it. There was only one avenue left for me to continue living, and that was to untie the thing, and climb up with no safety net. So I cried more.

My courage was almost mustered when I felt the rope move. On its own.

I looked up.

Out of the window, August waved. Then, he hoisted again, pulling me up another foot effortlessly.

Two avenues, then. I thanked the ancestors it was him and not whoever was next door who stuck their head out the window.

It took the man less time than I’d expected to save my life. When I made it to his window, I just spilled out unceremoniously onto his floor, dripping wet.

His presence only dimly felt as I shivered on the floor of his cabin. I’d almost died. Like, died died. Just to get lunch. The shivering continued.

“..ou okay?” A voice said.

I shook and looked at my savior.

“Are you okay?” August asked again.

“No.” I said, not looking at him. The shaking wouldn’t stop. “I think I’m in a bit over my head.”

“Your leg.” He said quietly.

I braced myself, then, moved my eyes to it.

My left pant leg had a massive tear on the inside of my thigh, revealing a wound that looked like someone had sanded a raw chicken breast. I grimaced. August moved to his bed and grabbed the sheet, tearing it and using the cloth to tourniquet the wound. I bit my tongue to prevent the gasp of pain that would’ve escaped.

“I don’t think it opened an artery, or you would’ve passed out in the water.” He said. “You need medical attention. We should call a guard. You can say you were just looking for food, or something juvenile like that.”

I shook my head, refusing. “One of them can tell if I’m lying. I can’t.”

“The Acier Clan is on board?” August murmured, not really asking. “Okay. Fine. I’ll just bring you up the way you came in. Get to your brother, and get help. I’ve stopped most of the bleeding, but these wounds will be infected if you don’t get real bandages on them.”

“There’s no way you can make it up the rope with me on your back.” I said.

“Don’t worry, I’m strong.”

August untied my harness, before loading me onto his back. I doubted his claim - his frame didn't support it. Still, with no other option, he backpacked me to the window, wrapping the rope around the both of us. The new arrangement had the rope beneath my armpits, pulled tight so I wouldn’t slide much.

“You probably won’t be able to go back and see my sister.” August said as he squeezed us out the window, hands clutching the rope. “But thank you for telling me she’s okay. It means a lot.”

I coughed out something resembling ‘no problem’ in response, not meaning it. There were many problems, most of them involving bleeding.

We swung out from the ship slowly, using the rope to support the majority of our combined weight. The man proved me wrong. He was strong. Unnaturally so, to the point where I was almost certain he had the Blood. It was to the point where the climb barely winded him - he was even talking as we ascended.

“If you manage to get help, I need you to do something for me. If you can.” August said. I was barely listening.

The shaking had calmed a bit, but being outside the ship raised my heart rate back to unfortunate levels.

“The Bloodline in charge of governing Selio is a close friend of the Jirou Bloodline.” He said. “If you can, get word of our situation to them. Please.”

August brought us into the upper window. He untied us, and I stumbled to the wall, keeping my weight on my good right leg.

“Man,” I groaned. “If you’re this strong, why don’t you just escape? You’d probably beat up all the guards by yourself. Look, you’re already out of your cell.”

August gave me a half-smile, expression complicated.

“I am strong, but an Ambassador is far beyond me. And, Diana is still here.”

I grunted.

“Will you be okay?” He asked.

“I think so.” I said, leaning against the wall. “You need to go back down before someone notices you’re missing.”

“Consider what I said.” August replied as he moved to the window. “If you can get word to Selio Governor, I’ll make sure you’re paid. I promise.”

I felt my expression twist in pain as I tried to put some weight on my bad leg.

August moved back to the rope, and I called his name when he was halfway out the window. He turned.

“Gedric.” I said. “That’s my name. Thanks for saving my life, August.”

He gave a slight wave, and then started down the outside of the ship. I leaned out the window and watched him descend. He was fast, much faster than I was. Seeing the distance between the two windows from here, the trip almost looked short.

I inched the rope back through and into the ship, rolling it. Hetis wouldn’t be back for a few hours yet, but I knew he’d packed some bare minimum essentials for dealing with wounds in his pack.

The limp I did back to Hetis’s room was unnoticed, somehow. I caught my appearance in the mirror as I stumbled in. I was still wet, never having dried off since my swim. Not only was my pant leg ripped, I realized, but so was my shirt. I had rope-burn on my chest and under my armpits from where I had tied the harness. My hands were diced and still lightly bleeding, though they had yet to drip.

None were as bad as the leg wound, which was lucky. The leg wound was bad.

I collapsed to a sitting position on the bed and started pushing my way through the pack. My hands, which eventually protested to the point I got sick of it, asked me to dump the contents out on the floor. I listened.

From the jumble of now-unorganized contents spilt on the floor, I plucked out a bandage and wrapped my leg with care, tight enough to keep the red parts on the inside. I discarded the now useless tourniquet after I finished by dumping it into the sea.

Feeling vulnerable, I laid down in the closet, and let darkness take me.

I was startled awake by the sound of the door to the cabin open.

“Ged?”

I heard a soft voice. It was Hetis.

I scraped the closet open with some effort.

“Hi.” I said.

“Fuck, dude, you look like shit!”

“Quiet.” I said, “I’m still a stowaway.”

Hetis rushed to my side to inspect the damage.

“I wrapped my leg, but I’m worried I didn’t do it right.”

Hetis inspected the leg wound. “We need to change the bandage, it’s almost soaked through.”

“I used most of the roll. We don’t have enough.”

“Shit.” He said.

“A good summary of today.” I remarked.

“What happened, anyway?”

I told my brother about my afternoon.

“I almost died.” I admitted.

“No more climbing boats.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. Sorry.”

“Also, you’re a fucking idiot.”

“Het, I get it, I’m-”

He hugged me. I winced.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” He said. “It’d be way more boring without you.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll be right back.” He said, grabbing Mom’s sheathed dagger from the floor.

“Het, what are you-”

Hetis unsheathed the knife and sliced his palm open. He hissed at the pain.

“What the hell?” I whispered. “Are you stupid?”

“Yes.” He said. “I am stupid. It seems in my stupidity I cut my hand. Be right back, with fresh bandages.”

Hetis stepped back into the hall and shut the door behind him. He returned with a wrapped hand, and, mercifully, more bandages. More than he needed for the hand wound, but the medic on board had allowed him to take more. It sounded like they had oversupplied, expecting more ‘recruits’ like ourselves than they had found in Byras.

“So, how are we going to help August and Diana?” Hetis asked as he re-wrapped my leg.

“I was just going to sneak off the boat tomorrow and knock on the Governor’s door, or something. You don’t need to help.” I replied, shrugging.

My brother shook his head. “August saved your life. You think I’m going to just leave them prisoners? Absolutely not. I’m helping. You’re all... cripply right now, anyways.”

Leg finished, My brother moved on to my hands. The rope burn on my chest wasn’t bad enough to warrant wrapping, despite how it stung.

“I can do it on my own.” I said. “I don’t want to get you involved. My debt is my own.”

“You’re a dumbass, Gedric. That’s not how this works. We’re in this together, or not at all.”

I frowned, but eventually relented. I didn’t want Hetis to risk himself, but if it had to be anyone doing idiotic things for someone who saved my life, I was glad it was him.

“How did we get in this mess?” I contemplated.

“Well, first, a scary armor lady showed up.” Hetis said, counting on his fingers. “Then, we found out we have magic powers. Then, you looked at an owl, got lunch, and almost drowned in three separate instances of idiocy that loosely led us to a point where the prisoner noble on the boat had to save your life. Did I miss anything?”

“The part where we stowed me away on the ship of one of the most important people in the Empire, because we thought it would be funny.” I said. “Sorry about all the trouble I’ve gotten into recently. I mean it.”

Hetis gave me a strange look.

“What are you talking about?” He said. “This is the most fun I’ve had since... well, ever. Besides, it’s my turn tomorrow.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Faintly, I heard the sound of bells in the distance. My brother and I glanced out the window, to see the white of sails in the fading light of dusk along the coastline. It was Selio. We were almost to our first stop.

“Well, you’re hobbled.” Hetis said. “And not supposed to be here, besides. Since you’re on a strict no climbing break, it looks like I’ll be the one finding the Governor.”

“Lame, but you’re right.” I admitted. “There’s no way I’ll be able to leave the boat like this.”

“We got lucky, too. Tomorrow I have my first test on etiquette.” Hetis said.

“That doesn’t sound very lucky.”

He shook his head.

“It is.”

“Why?”

“Because the ‘test’ is a dinner with the Governor of Selio.”