DILLON

I burst into a fit of laughter, clenching my stomach. Tears brim my eyes. I see the stares of my other crewmates. I feel the anger radiating from Lux.

"You ever live for anyone but yourself, Dillon?" He says in a low voice. "You ever got a dream? Course not. Look at you. Booze and coin. It's all you care about." He clenches his fists. I laugh again and wipe the corner of my eyes.

"Careful, Lux. Some might think you're speaking about yourself." He suddenly stands and glares me down, his face inches from mine.

I sigh. "What? It was your lifelong dream to marry the princess? And you get on at me for living for booze and coin, as if that isn't going to be your whole life after marrying her. If you can even get her-" He throws his punch quick but I am too drunk to dodge so I let him hit me. My jaw clicks and I groan. He punches like a child.

"Knew I shouldn't have come to you." He mutters and storms off, leaving me to patch the hole by myself. I groan. He could've at least picked up another plank of wood from the deck.

***

Luxus doesn't speak to me for the next two weeks. When I run into him, he glares and walks away. Like a child throwing a tantrum. And I was the one who got punched.

The new ship docks at dawn and soon we are to depart where the fighting is most dense. This conflict has been tiring. Illya's southern archipelagos consist of over a hundred islands. It is hard to pinpoint where exactly Ghükar is hiding. I sit and stare at the activity in the port market, a half-empty bottle of rum in my hand.

I have never visited a place as busy as port Fraiscé. People from all walks of life, trading and drinking and gambling under the scorching heat. I envy their carefree attitudes, especially as we are in the midst of war. The consequences of war left other ports dilapidated, with houses burned or broken. Even the people were scarce. Port Fraiscé is lucky to still be standing.

The aroma of spices and grilled meats waft through the streets. The taverns and houses are closely knitted together, rising like columns of white stone with rounded windows. Every door I pass lies wide open, colourful tapestries hanging from their doors. There seems to be energy here I have yet to witness elsewhere. Folk are relaxed, always laughing. Women lounge around in minimal clothing from their balconies or by the docks to watch the soldiers pass through. I try to not stare.

I can hardly blame them for wearing so little, the heat can kill in this place. I finish my skewer of lamb and throw the wooden stick into the pile beside my table and take my last swig of rum. I eye the new ship. Its coat is beautiful and gleams under the morning sun, black banners flying in the wind. Dozens of workers load and haul food and cargo onto the ship. The sail is black with a red crescent moon at the centre. The symbol of The Black Company. The guild I sold my life to.

"Think your ship is going, boy." An old man with a thick accent says to me as he leans across his stall. I throw him twenty coppers and stagger out of my seat, I give him a wave. I hear him laugh behind me.

The sack I carry on my shoulder and the blade at my hip are all I've known since I was seventeen. I am now twenty-six. Almost a decade of blood and booze and gold I cannot seem to keep. From the corner of my eye, I notice a mop of black tightly woven curls on a large head. His ebony skin glistens under the heat of the morning. He is crouching by the dock, throwing small rocks against the ship.

"Careful, Lux. Captain will have your head if our ship sinks before we even depart." I try to lighten his sour mood. He ignores me. I sigh and sit next to him. He takes small glances at me as if he wishes to speak but does not know what to say.

"You reek of booze." He mumbles eventually. I grin and pat him on the head.

***

We reach the largest island of the Illyan archipelagos by dawn the next day. I feel the ship rock rhythmically as I lay in the darkness. Silence fills the sleeping quarters as men dress and strap on their armour. I sit up and start to sharpen my blade. I need a drink.

Vorréne is smooth and flat with a dense forest at the centre. It is an uninhabited religious site. The people of Illya believe when their Angels left the world, their power shattered the land, creating these islands. But it is only Vorréne that withstood the damage. A shrine is meant to stand at the centre of the jungle. That is where we are heading.

A couple of hours after dawn breaks, we stand on the deck, ready to depart on rowboats. I've had my armour on for under an hour and I already think I'm going to die in this Angels forsaken land if I don't get in the shade. Sweat drips from my hair. I kept it short for this campaign. I should've just shaved.

The waters beyond the white beach glimmer under the blinding sun and even sea birds have taken shelter from the blistering heat. The breeze has been sparse but when it comes, it brings along the pungent stench of rotting corpses and the briny scent of the ocean. I cannot see the bodies. But the smell is unlike any other. The men beside me clutch at the rails of the ship, knuckles white. Anticipation. Fear. We know what is coming, though we cannot see it.

We get into rowboats one by one, our armour clanking. We sweat underneath our suits, it weighs us down and chafes against raw skin. We are not equipped to fight in this heat. But neither are the Khronish. The ship carries just under two hundred soldiers from the guild. Our scouts have told us this is where the heart of their army is residing. But it is eerily still here.

We split into groups per Captain Rifco's orders. We trudge through the shallow waters, the cold is a welcome feeling on my sweaty calves. There are no signs of life. Not even the calls of birds. The only sound in my ears is the marching of the men beside me.

Lux gives me a weary look. Our small party walks inland, panting like dogs until we see trees in the distance. We head close to the shade at the entrance of the jungle. Lux leans on a palm tree and coughs. That is when I hear a sharp woosh and feel a small gust of air rush past the side of my head.

"Take cover!" Captain Rifco bellows from somewhere to my right. Adrenaline takes control of my body and I jump to the nearest tree. My heart beats like a drum under my breastplate. The arrows fly at us, chipping off the bark and creating a flurry of dust in the air. It is never-ending.

I look at one-eyed Roy to my left. I see the sweat dripping from his lashes, his eye wider than usual, his face contorted in anger. He tilts his head as if he is going to peek. I see he has unsheathed his blade. He is being a fool, but I have no time to tell him to stop. He turns and steps forward, blade at the ready.

"Roy, no-" I grit my teeth as an arrow flies through his right brow, taking off almost half of his face, splattering blood. A chunk of his scalp hits my breastplate with a wet thump. Another arrow hits him on the leg and he falls into the sand without a sound. I squeeze my eyes shut and look around for my other comrades.

Lux crouches behind a tree, clutching his sword tightly, waiting with determination in his eyes. They will have to reload some time. Why isn't there any respite in their attacks? How many are there? Too many thoughts run through my mind.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

My comrades fall one by one. Screams and shouts ring in the air. I can taste warm blood in my mouth. I have bitten my cheek. I breathe heavily and stare at Roy's lifeless body. I must do something.

"I'm sorry," I whisper as I unsheathe my sword and stab him hard in the shin. I feel my blade pierce bone and the crunch reverberates through my arm. I hold my sword tight and drag his corpse to me. I crouch low, yank my sword out of his body, and with my back against the tree, I hoist him up slowly. I try not to look at his face.

I unstrap his sword belt. He is heavy in his armour, but I need the protection. I cannot risk stripping him off it. My wrist aches. My grip on his neck is unsteady. I feel like a sinner. A heathen. But, out here, there is no one to judge me. No Angel to condemn me.

I scream and charge toward the arrows, with Roy's lifeless body as my shield.