Deducing where the young master had gone was the first goal. To the east of the dormant volcano was the Numerenai guild fortress. This was the preferable option. It was safe and would make finding him easier. Jyesthra took Izthark to the fortress. Having grown up there, they knew the people, and quickly came to an answer.

The lady nor young master had visited the fortress all year.

"Not this year at all?" Izthark asked.

"Not even before the Long Night. Refused, even. When the sun-strikes started against Ire and Kes, Mother was distraught and turned away everyone, and isolated herself to the top of the mountain."

Izthark and Jyesthra shared a glance, thanked their sister, and left, promising to keep them informed when they find the young master, and not revealing their mother's fate. While their brothers and sisters would need to know, it would be for the guildmaster to tell.

"This leaves three pirate lords and their territories." Izthark thought outloud. Jyesthra clenched her fingers together anxiously. He looked to her, and drew her out of her thoughts with a question. "Which do you think he would go for?"

"How are we supposed to know? We only know he has white hair! We don't know his likes or dislikes or reasons to go or how weak he is or his history with them or-"

"Well, the southern port is closest and has the easiest path from the volcano," Izthark offered. "And ports offer plenty of jobs." He extended his hand for her to grasp and take them there. She reached for his hand, but recoiled when she saw how much she shook. "Breath. The young master lived here. He knows it as well as we would."

"Y-you're right. Thanks." She took a breath and took his hand.

"Of course, I am." 

They shifted location until they were at the top of a tower. But not before appearing in the middle of the ocean for a brief dunk in frigid water. One shocked scream and 'bitch!' later, they overlooked the port city of Remina'Ref. The port overwatched the channel between the island and the continent Dyson.

The top of Ire that bordered the continent was entirely mountainous, so while there was some naval activity, it was difficult and small in comparison to what was allowable between Kes and Ne. Acting as the only road between the two regions, ignoring the Ire land-paths, the port city between was highly profitable. It was ruled by what was informally a pirate lord, but he had enough sense to not raid prospective customers, making what was a safe and neutral area, albeit heavily tolled, alongside the Numerenai fortress to the north-east.

It had always been a hotbed of activity, but the degree to which it was these days was alarming. There were no mere ten or twelve vessels at port with another two waiting off the coast. There were hundreds of ships loading and unloading. In tandem the city itself was overpopulated and dense until no gap could be seen between them.

Almost all were slaves, slavers, buyers, tattoo shops, and more involved in the trade of bloods. The slaves were overwhelmingly Kes-Blood.

The ships were also being loaded in crates and crates, which from the few still open, were weapons.

Jyesthra whistled, "Impressive! This is new."

Izthark scrunched his brows in concern. "When my vision has grazed over this city, I saw more ships than usual, and the place was bustling, but this is not what I expected."

"They lost. This is what happens when you lose."

"Yes, but this many in one day? And for how long? Is the whole of the country being emptied out and gutted?"

He heard her scoff and the air imploded as she disappeared. Izthark did not expect pity from her towards a blood to which she was named to be their curse, but at times he hoped she would choose apathy. Not that the Bane of Moloch had any right to judge the Goddess of Misfortune.

Jyesthra returned and a man stumbled on their reappearance. He threw her hand off and looked about frantically. He looked like one of the slavers, rather than slaves. "Who are you people?" He asked fearfully.

"We are agents of the Aeterna Emperor," Jyesthra answered.

Izthark smirked, knowing he would be enjoying this part. He removed his eye covering and fell into the normal role between them. "Congratulations, you have been randomly selected to answer a brief survey! There are no wrong answers, and you should answer as honestly as you can. I warn you: I can tell."

"The Sun Emperor." The pirate concluded. He looked between them, and the edge of the tower he was nearly standing at, and gulped. He straightened up a bit, realizing he wasn't going to be straight up murdered. "Well, you certainly don't look like locals. If I answer, will you take me back down, gently?" 

"Like a feather," Izthark smiled.

"Right." He eyed the armored woman a moment as well as the man with the unusual eyes. "What question would the Emperor have for someone like me?"

"We are looking for someone." Izthark explained briefly. "He would be-"

"Haven't seen him."

"We haven't told you anything about him yet."

"And I see hundreds, if not thousands, of people a day. You're climbing up the wrong ladder if you think I can remember a single person out of that. They all blend together into one cohesive, faceless mass."

"Perhaps if we were to help your memory." Izthark illuded.

"Naw, out of all dues and respects to the Emperor, I really wouldn't be able to help with finding a single person."

Izthark nodded. He expected the man to desire bribes, but it seemed he had enough sense to fear the Aeterna. "All the same." He shared a glance with Jyesthra. "Help his memory."

He didn't need to see into the helmet to know she was grinning. The pirate insisted he truly didn't know anything and no amount of payment would change that, but that was not the form of payment they had in mind. Jyesthra took hold of the man and they disappeared together. A moment later she reappeared, absent one pirate.

"Water or air?" Izthark asked.

"I went for air this time." Jyesthra answered.

They both looked up. There was nothing initially but birds, but if one looked closely one particular bird was not like the rest. This particular bird had no ability to fly as it flailed about and was falling quite quickly. As the bird fell closer it took on the form of a man screaming and losing any remaining sense of athiesm. 

"I'm just going to juggle him twice. He was respectful, and we don't have time for this." Jyesthra said.

"Fair enough. Make it high."

"Try not to enjoy the show too much." She chuckled.

Just before the man hit the ground, Jyesthra reappeared where he was about to fall to his death, touched him, and took him back high into the air for one final round. On his way back down, Izthark took out his bow, prepared a Kingslayer, shot it, caught the falling man by the shirt, and pinned him into a wall breaking his fall.

Izthark and Jyesthra approached the god-fearing, quivering man dangling from the wall. His shirt was covered in vomit stains and his eyes spun while he whimpered.

"How about now?" Izthark asked.

"Wh-what can you tell me about him?" The man asked as best he could.

"He would be about twelve years of age, has a sword, and short, white hair. Possibly a pet."

"Pet?" Jyethsthra asked.

"The hammock." Izthark explained briefly to her. He returned his attention to the pirate. "Like a monkey or something that climbs."

"I don't know anything about a pet, but there was one kid." The man recalled. "He was looking for a job and had a Soran-Blood strapped to his back. Matches your limited, but beautiful description well as I can figure."

"Soran-Blood?"

"Yeah, with no legs. Like it had been torn off. Never seen anything like it this far north."

"Because there is only one." Jyesthra breathed. "Nel'Andra! Must be the young master!"

"You mentioned he was looking for a job. Who was he approaching?" Izthark asked.

He looked at them, unsure if that question was serious. "The same guy everyone here is. The Pain Artist."

xxxxxxxxxx

Times like this reminded me of my training from Abhdan. When the city is sieged, go to the barracks deep in the castle. When ambushed in the wilds, step back and let your guards handle it so that you don't risk injury. When kidnapped, don't do anything stupid like bargaining and putting your nation to shame, while you wait for the royal family to rescue you.

Except I don't have much of a nation nor royal family.

"If you think you are getting a ransom from my brother, you don't know my family well enough." I said. My head was wrapped in a black bag, my wrists and ankles were tied, and I was slung over a large person's shoulder. Whoever it was, they wore armor even in the daytime, and in the middle of the city. 

"He pay," The man replied gruffly in an unusual accent. I didn't recall ever hearing it before.

Shade came over us followed by a great deal of noise of people about, telling me we had entered a building where people were. I recognized the tinkling of glasses and people were cheering something in excitement, but this could be anyplace. The city was large and I hadn't woken from my knocked-out, drunken stupor long.

No one said anything of my predicament. He took me deeper into the building with no resistance. We passed through a couple of doors and he dropped me into a chair. Some metal cords were tightly wrapped around my arms to the chair and metal cuffs were latched around my legs to the chair before the bag was ripped from my head. I shut my eyes tightly against the light and slowly opened them.

The first thing in front of my eyes was of my capital city being destroyed. Or, more accurately, a painting depicting the event. At the top of the painting was the sun and clouds, giving a holy amnesiance as its brilliant light came down through the clouds onto the city with the royal palace in the center of its glory. However, with the light came destruction as the city surrounding the palace was ruined, crushed, and burnt with fire, and the people scattered in pain and terror as the fire came over them, until at the bottom of the painting was masses of people consumed by fire that ran about as demons.

It was my nightmares put perfectly onto a canvas, complete with a perfect depiction of the Kes capital before the palace was reduced to ruins. Whoever drew this must have seen it in its splendor before the event, or witnessed the event.

On my left was a glass door, with a hallway on the otherside leading out to a large room. On the nearby wall was glass windows from where the occupant of this room in particular could gaze out into the rest of the building, which was filled with tables on which hundreds of men and women ate, drank, and gambled. Their clothing was rich and clean, and there was gold, jeweled ornaments and stones hanging from, or protruding from, every orifice from their toes to their foreheads, with laced fine stones intertwined with gold into their hair. A single one of them was a walking representation of gaudy wealth, enough to feed an orphan for months. Among them were many Kes slaves until the building was filled to bursting.

On my right was a desk. There was stacks of money on it, several swords and knives, a couple papers I could not make out from a distance, and a wanted poster with a description of a bounty and big bold letters saying 'Wanted Alive Only!'

Behind the desk was a wheeled chair, a set of shelves filled with scrolls, an open window high near the ceiling, and a rack on which was one of the latest technologies shown off by the Soran-Blood for wealthy buyers: a hand-held cannon.

Next to me was a second chair where no one sat. Barbed wire, covered in dried blood, covered its arm. The same wire was wrapped around me, but I had the sense to not move.

The man to have brought me in dumped the black bag onto the desk and stood in the corner with the shade. His armor was too big for his lanky frame, and beneath the armor was shown a great many veils similar to the Mirrad-Blood woman. Like her, he covered every inch of his skin and kept to the shade. His armor was also unpainted grey and scratched all over. I assumed him to be a Mirrad-Blood, but time would tell. His accent was far stronger than I remembered her voice being.

The door leading out opened, and a man I very much wished I would never have seen again entered. He walked down the hall to the glass door with a gleeful smile and a skip to his step, which only grew on seeing me. He entered the room.

"Good day, brother!" Caius greeted me.