Chapter 39 - Zintar
--Lyra, Two Days ago--
My knuckles were locked so tight around the hilt of my sword that my fingers were numb, my yellow eyes glued to the water vortex Grandpa Grann had ripped out of the ocean.
And then, Kyro let it fly.
A colossal, blinding fire ball blasted out from his hands, tearing through the air and plunging straight into the belly of the swirling hole in the ocean.
BOOM!
The deafening roar of the explosion rattled right through the deck, vibrating into the soles of my boots. Thick, white steam and black smoke billowed out from the center of the vortex like a dying volcano.
Did he do it..?
Then, the water caved in on itself. For a second, the whole ocean went dead silent.
I observed Kyro, being held by Brohm in the air, he went limp. Grann was swimming towards them, and yelling something. I couldn't hear what they were yelling about, when suddenly, beneath Grann, a floating island of slick, pale flesh broke the surface. The massive, lifeless corpse of the octopus floated to the top, its giant dead eyes staring blankly into the sky.
The tight, suffocating knot in my chest dissapeared. A wave of wild, electric relief surged through my veins so hard my head spun.
"YEAHHHHH!"
"By the gods, that kid did it!"
"We're saved!"
The entire ship erupted into absolute madness. Sailors were throwing their hats into the air, screaming, slamming their boots against the timber, and grabbing each other by the shoulders.
I hauled my sword high into the air, my chest swelling with a fiery, furious pride that made my eyes sting. That's my brother!
"RAAGGGHH!" I roared at the top of my lungs, grinning so hard my jaw ached.
***
By nightfall, the sky had turned into a cold, weeping gray. Heavy rain battered the main deck, forcing the crew to haul our prize below deck. They had managed to chain a couple of the giant tentacles to the rear corners of the ship, towing the dead beast through the wake, but cut off an entire massive section to roast.
The smoky, savory scent of meat filled the lower corridors, but under the loud sizzle of cooking flesh, there was a dark weight hanging over the ship.
We lost eight men.
Eight crewmates who had been shouting and pulling ropes just hours ago were now gone, swallowed by the sea. In the line of work these sailors chose, dying out in the black water was always an unwritten promise, but that didn't make the air any lighter.
I stood in the dim corridor, watching silently as a veteran sailor knelt by the heavy oak door leading to the crew's quarters. His hand was shaking as he took a piece of jagged charcoal, carving eight new names into the dark wood alongside a quiet, muttered prayer.
My eyes drifted along the frame. I hadn't paid attention to it when we first boarded, but now, under the flickering glow of the oil lanterns, I saw them: dozens upon dozens of names scratched into the timber like faded, ugly graffiti. Over fifty names, overlapped and worn down by salt air and time.
An uncomfortable drop of sweat ran down my neck. Fifty dead... It was a harsh reminder of just how fragile everyone was out here. One wrong move, and Kyro or I could just become two more names carved into a doorframe.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, turned away from the wall, and pushed into the mess hall. I didn't want to think about death anymore. I wanted to feel alive.
The ship's tavern was small, warm, and packed with the scent of roasted seafood and cheap ale. The crew was eating in batches, and luckily, Grann, Brohm, and I made it into the first batch.
We crammed onto a sturdy wooden bench, and the moment the cook slammed a plate of steaming, freshly charred Kraken meat in front of me, all the grim thoughts in my head vanished.
"Mmmm~!!!" I gasped, shoving a massive piece into my mouth.
The meat was incredible—thick, juicy, smoky, and bursting with a rich, savory flavor that practically melted on my tongue. After nearly dying in a sea battle, food had never tasted so ridiculously good.
"Oh gods, it's so good!" Grann wailed, chewing like a starved bear while actual, genuine tears rolled down his weathered cheeks.
"Right?!" I turned to him, my cheeks stuffed like a squirrel's as I nodded enthusiastically.
Brohm sat across from us, leaning back against the wooden bulkhead with a mug in hand and her own steaming portion on a wooden platter. She watched the two of us with an amused, lopsided smirk. "Is it really that good? You two are inhaling it like you haven't eaten in a decade." She chuckled, her dark black eyes crinkling.
"Give it a try!" I demanded, pointing my fork at her.
Brohm shrugged, cutting off a thick piece and popping it into her mouth. She chewed casually for a second—and then her eyes went wide. The smirk vanished, replaced by sheer shock as she swallowed. "Oh... wow. Okay, that actually tastes incredible!"
"Right!?" Grann and I shouted in perfect unison, grinning at each other like maniacs.
For the next twenty minutes, the gloom of the storm outside was drowned out by the scraping of plates, the roaring chatter of the surviving crew, and the heat of the hearth. We ate like wolves celebrating a hunt.
When my plate was licked completely clean, Grann and I slammed our heavy wooden cups together with a loud, echoey CLACK! and let out two synchronized, thunderous burps that made a nearby sailor burst out laughing.
"Ahh~.." I slumped back against the bench, rubbing my stuffed stomach with a deep, utterly satisfied sigh. "So good..."
I leaned my head back, looking around the noisy, crowded room.
"It sucks that Kyro wasn't able to join us," I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest and staring down at the empty wooden spot beside me. "I mean, he's the one who delivered the killing blow to that giant squid. He should be sitting right here eating the biggest piece."
Brohm leaned back against the wall, picking her teeth with a thin wooden splinter. "Eh, let the boy rest," she remarked casually. "He earned it. Besides, I don't think he'll be waking up anytime soon even if you dragged him here."
I turned my head sharply toward her, my eyebrows drawing together. "What do you mean by that?"
"Well, when a mage exhausts their entire mana reserve twice in a single day, the body's natural mana recovery drops to a crawl," Brohm explained, spearing another thick chunk of roasted tentacle with her fork. "If they wake up too early and manage to drain it again, the regeneration turns to molasses. It's actually lethal if every single drop of mana is stripped away."
She paused, taking a slow bite and chewing deliberately before continuing. "Luckily, everyone has what mages call a 'blank.' It's a tiny, unreachable core of energy that stays untouched no matter how hard you push—it keeps the heart beating and the lungs moving. But sometimes, if the mana burnout is violent enough, that safety net fails on the spot. Cold, instant death."
A sharp, icy shiver ran straight down my spine, turning the warm food in my stomach into lead. I leaned across the wooden table, my knuckles turning white against the edge.
"Wait... Kyro's gonna die?!"
Brohm stopped munching, rolling her eyes with a dry chuckle. "Have you been listening with your elbows? I said on the spot. The kid's still breathing down in the cabin, so his blank held. It's just absolute madness how he dumped that much power like he was totally oblivious to the chance it could kill him."
Then, a sharp, mischievous smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. She leaned in slightly, dropping her voice to a dramatic whisper. "Though, who knows... it is unpredictable. Maybe he's actually dying on the inside right now..."
My heart slammed against my ribs like a trapped bird.
"You're full of it!" I huffed, my chair scraping violently against the floorboards as I bolted upright.
I didn't wait to hear another word. I turned on my heel and stormed out of the tavern, my blood roaring in my ears.
Behind me, Grann watched me leave before turning a heavy, disapproving glare toward Brohm. "Hey, stop lying to the kid. Ain't that a bit harsh?"
"Oh, relax, old man," Brohm laughed softly, taking a slow swig from her mug. "Bet she'll appreciate him a little more and abuse him a little less after what I said. The boy looks terrified of his own sister half the time, and she needs to realize he isn't invincible."
"There's literally no reason for you to pull a stunt like that," Grann scoffed, his thick gray brows pulling into a deep V as he reached for another plate.
"Sorry, sorry," Brohm wheezed, waving a dismissive hand. "I just thought it might be funny."
"That's not funny at all," Grann grumbled into his food.
***
The rain was still hammering the hull above, each heavy thud echoing through the narrow hallway like a countdown. My eyes involuntarily flicked toward the frame of the crew's quarters as I hurried past—over fifty names carved into the dark wood, faded and worn by salt air. The thought that my little brother might become one of them made me angry and worried.
No. Not him. Not my idiot brother.
My boots slapped heavily against the damp floorboards as I practically ran down the corridor, my chest tight and burning. I threw open the heavy oak door to our cabin, stepped inside, and kicked it shut behind me.
The air in the room was chilly, smelling faintly of ocean brine and damp wool. I spun toward the lower bunk bed.
Kyro was lying on his back, utterly motionless under the thin blanket. His face was unnaturally pale, dark shadows bruised beneath his eyes, and his chest rose and fell in shallow, painfully slow breaths.
A sharp spike of panic hit me quick as I rushed over to the side of the bed and dropped to my knees. "Kyro?"
No answer.
Without thinking, my hand moved on instinct.
SLAP!
I delivered a sharp strike to his pale cheek. It left a faint red imprint against his skin, but his head just lolled uselessly to the side, his eyelids remaining tightly closed.
"Hey," I called out, my voice cracking slightly. I reached out and grabbed both of his shoulders, digging my fingers into his tunic as I shook him back and forth. "WAKE UP!"
I kept shaking him, pulling him half-upright, but there was zero resistance. His body was completely limp.
"RAGH! WAKE UP, KYRO!" I yelled, tears of sheer frustration and terror unexpectedly welling up in the corners of my eyes. I shook his shoulders even harder, my heart hammering against my chest. "You killed a giant sea food, you idiot! You don't get to die in your sleep after that! Wake up!"
The heavy cabin door creaked open behind me, but I completely ignored it. I was too busy violently rocking my brother's limp, ragdoll body back and forth, praying for any sign of life.
Then, a broad, warm hand rested firmly on my shaking shoulder.
"He'll be fine, Lyra."
It was Grandpa Grann. His voice was calm, steady, and utterly devoid of panic.
I paused, wiping my nose on my sleeve and looking up at him with wide, watery eyes. "B-But... what about Brohm? She said his 'blank' was failing! She said he was secretly dying on the inside!"
Grann let out a long, exhausted sigh, shaking his head as he knelt beside me on the cold floorboards. "Brohm is a terrible influence and a chronic liar; that's in their nature as a succubus." he said gently, placing his hand over Kyro's forehead to check his temperature. "Kyro isn't dying, child. I promise you that. The boy is just exceptionally exhausted and his body is sleeping off a massive mana burnout, that's all. Give him until tomorrow, and he'll be awake and complaining about his head."
The sheer relief hit me so hard my knees went completely weak.
All the terrifying images of carving Kyro's name into the crew's quarter door melted away, replaced by an overwhelming wave of embarrassment and exhaustion. I lunged forward, throwing my arms around Grann's neck and weeping openly into his shoulder, snorting and soaking his vest with tears.
"I thought... I thought I was gonna have to tell Mom I let him die on a boat!" I sobbed hysterically.
"There, there," Grann patted my back with a soft chuckle. "He's fine. Go on and get some air."
I stayed buried in Grann's shoulder for another ten seconds until the crying stopped. And then, as the panic completely drained out of my system, reality set in.
Brohm lied to me.
Not only that—she made me look like an absolute lunatic. She made me cry, smack my unconscious brother, and panic like a frightened child, all while she sat back drinking her mug and enjoying the show.
My tears instantly dried up. The grief vanished, instantly replaced by a blinding, white-hot, apocalyptic rage.
I slowly pulled back from Grann, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. The fragile, heartbroken little girl from two seconds ago was gone. In her place was a bloodthirsty demon.
Grann blinked at the sudden change in my expression, taking a step back. "...Lyra?"
I didn't answer. I stood up, turned on my heel, and marched out of the cabin with the terrifying, single-minded focus of a brawler.
I stomped back down the narrow hallway, my boots striking the floorboards so hard the wood groaned under my weight. Every step fed the furnace of my anger.
I kicked the tavern doors open with a deafening SLAM! that rattled the iron hinges.
The entire room went dead silent. A couple of sailors mid-chew froze, forks hovering near their mouths as they turned to look at the entrance.
My eyes swept the room, instantly target-locking onto the wooden table in the corner.
Brohm was sitting there comfortably, leaning back against the wall with a smug, satisfied grin as she raised her wooden mug to take another slow sip.
She caught my eye, her smirk widening as she opened her mouth to make another joke. "Ah, back already? Did he—"
"YOU LIED TO ME!"
My blue aura flared around me as I launched myself across the room like a rabid missile, clearing the distance between us in a fraction of a second.
Brohm's eyes went wide as saucers. "Wait, what the—?!"
I tackled her at full speed.
CRASH!
The wooden bench flipped backward, plates clattered, a chunk of fried tentacle flew through the air and slapped a nearby sailor right in the forehead, and both of us went crashing onto the beer-soaked floorboards in a chaotic heap of limbs.
"ACK!" Brohm wheezed as the air was violently knocked out of her lungs.
I scrambled on top of her chest like a feral animal, wrapping both of my hands firmly around her collar and shaking her violently. "YOUU!! I WAS CRYING, YOU MISERABLE WITCH!"
"D-DAMN IT, GIRL!" Brohm choked out, her hands wildly grabbing at my wrists as she tried to pry my grip off. "IT WAS A JOKE! A JOKE! YOU HAVE THE GRIP OF A FREAKING BEAR!"
"I'LL SHOW YOU A JOKE!" I yelled, pulling her up by her shirt and slamming her back down onto the floorboards.
The tavern erupted into utter chaos. Half the sailors started cheering and banging their mugs on the tables, treating the sudden brawl like prime entertainment, while a few others leaned out of the way to save their food from getting trampled.
"Ten copper on the kid!" one sailor shouted, waving a pouch of coins.
"Nah, Brohm's gonna flip her!" another yelled back.
Brohm managed to twist her body, rolling us over so she was on top, but I immediately threw my leg over her waist, reversing the pin and locking her in a headlock.
"APOLOGIZE!" I roared into her ear.
"NEVER!" Brohm wheezed, her face turning slightly red as she tried to tickle my ribs to get me to break the hold. "YOU SHOULD'VE SEEN YOUR FACE, IT WAS HILARIOUS!"
"DIE!"
Just then, the tavern doors creaked open again. Grandpa Grann walked casually into the room, stepping over a spilled mug of ale and a stray piece of roasted kraken. He didn't even look surprised.
He strolled over to our overturned table, casually picked up a clean plate from a nearby bench, and scooped a fresh piece of meat onto it.
Brohm, currently struggling to keep me from putting her in an armbar, looked up at him desperately from the floor. "G-Grann! A little help here?! She's actually trying to snap my neck!"
Grann took a slow, deliberate bite of the kraken meat, chewed thoroughly, and swallowed before looking down at her with a flat, unimpressed expression.
"I told you it wasn't funny," Grann grumbled, before walking over to a quiet table in the corner to enjoy his dinner in peace.
***
--Tomorrow--
By early morning, the sky above Zintar burned in streaks of gold and violet. The harbor came into view, framed by the jagged, sun-baked spires of Zintar's orange rocky landscape.
When our ship finally glided beside the wooden piers, the entire dock went dead silent.
Even in the calm, morning water, the sheer, staggering size of the dead Kraken towed in our wake was mind-boggling. Its massive, rubbery tentacles were lashed down with thick iron chains, its giant, glassy eye staring up into the sky.
The docks, usually loud with the routine clatter of dockworkers and merchants, went dead silent the moment our ship dropped anchor. Men froze mid-stride, dropping crates of fruit and coils of rope, their jaws hanging open in utter, jaw-dropping disbelief as they stared at the floating mountain of monster meat tied to our stern.
"Is that... a sea demon?!" someone shouted from the pier.
"By the gods... who killed that thing?!"
While the crew began hauling cargo and monster parts down the gangplank to sell—trading raw hide, beak fragments, and ink sacs for small fortunes—Brohm, in a brown coat, and for once, now wearing boots, stood near the edge of the quarterdeck, massaging her neck with a low wince. A faint red mark was still visible on her skin from where I had tackled her the night before.
She walked over to us, carrying a leather bag so heavy it clinked with a deep, metallic thud at every step. She held it out toward Grann.
"Okay," she said, rotating her shoulder with a sharp crack. "Here's your cut of the bounty. Half the total price, as promised. Hope you guys are satisfied."
Grann let out a booming laugh, taking the bulging pouch. The sheer weight of the gold and silver coins inside made his arm drop a few inches.
"Satisfied? Ha! We're practically royalty now!" Grann grinned, nudging my hip with his side. "Right, Lyra?"
I crossed my arms, tilting my head back and staring off toward the bustling port town. My eyes were still a little sore from crying yesterday, and I was holding onto every shred of dignity I had left.
"Yeah, whatever," I muttered. "Money's okay, I guess."
Brohm let out a rich, throaty laugh, stepping closer to me. "Girl, you really are one interesting little fella. You put up this ferocious, violent front, but underneath all that prickly armor, you've got a terrifyingly soft spot for your little brother."
My cheeks flushed hot. "Shut up, witch."
"I like the spirit," Brohm smirked softly. Before I could duck away, she reached out and patted my head gently, ruffling my hair with surprisingly warm, affectionate knuckles. I grumbled under my breath, but for once, I didn't try to bite her hand off.
Footsteps echoed down the wooden steps as Scrotus approached the railing. He had a packed canvas bag slung over his broad shoulder, his short brown hair messy from a night of heavy drinking and celebrating.
"Captain Brohm," Scrotus called out, offering a crisp, respectful nod. "I'll be taking my leave now. I'll return after the ceremony."
Brohm turned to him, her expression softening into genuine respect. "Take all the time you need, Scrotus."
She reached into her coat, pulling out a heavy pouch of gold coins, and pressed it firmly into his hand. "Here—enjoy your spoils. Thanks for keeping the hull intact and steering us through that storm. You're one hell of a man, Scrotus."
Scrotus took his reward, a bashful, embarrassed grin spreading across his face as he scratched the back of his neck. "Haha... thank you, Captain. It was an honor."
"Alright, up you go!" Brohm barked playfully. As Scrotus turned to walk down the gangplank, she brought her hand down with a loud, resounding SLAP! right against his rear.
"Woah!" Scrotus yelped, jumping forward a foot before bursting into a laugh and marching down toward the docks.
"Alright!" Grann boomed, his deep voice rattling the surrounding wooden railings as he adjusted his posture. "I guess that's it for us, huh?"
"Yeah," Brohm smiled, looking around her ship with a tired, deeply satisfied sigh. "It was quite the voyage." She paused, her dark eyes flicking over Grann's shoulder. "Also... aren't you forgetting something?"
"Oh, right!" Grann chuckled.
He turned around, revealing his massive leather backpack. Tied securely to the frame with crisscrossing lengths of thick rope was Kyro.
He was still fast asleep, completely oblivious to the world, his head lolling uselessly against the leather straps like a ragdoll. He looked so absurdly peaceful wrapped up like a human bundle of firewood that I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
Brohm walked up to the sleeping boy. For a woman who spent her life fighting sea storms, roughing up sailors, and killing ocean beasts, her eyes went surprisingly soft.
She leaned down, brushing a strand of white hair away from his pale face, and gently pressed a kiss to his forehead.
"You're one hell of an experience, Kyro," Brohm whispered softly into the cool morning breeze. "Grow up and be a fine man, yeah?"
She stepped back, wiping a speck of dust off her coat and winking at me.
"Okay, now we're all set!" Grann declared, taking a massive step onto the wooden pier.
As we walked off the ship and onto the stone docks of Zintar, Grann and Scrotus raised their hands, giving the remaining crew a loud, booming farewell. I kept my head held high, my arms crossed, marching forward into the crowded streets.
I didn't wave back. But as the ship fell further behind us, I glanced back just once out of the corner of my eye—watching Captain Brohm lean against the railing, watching us go, until the shadows of Zintar swallowed us whole.
[End]