hcmills
patreon
Chapter 13: Home Sweet Home
🕑 Added 2025-05-26 13:26:32 +0000 UTCFrom the prow of the Breezy Bargain, Soren basked in the sight of his family’s estate. The morning sunlight bathed the white plaster on the outer wall in shades of orange, made the lacquered black roof tiles on the main building gleam, and glinted off the distinctive copper fogtube that spiralled up around the tower.
He wasn’t crying. Some fog had simply chosen to condense in the corners of his eyes.
The Bargain was a triple-floater merchant vessel, propelled mainly by a pair of kite sails attached to the outer two floaters. In addition, it had a pair of paddle wheels for docking that could be lowered in between the floaters, for sailors to climb in and run inside of. Doing so rotated the wheel either forward or backward, churning the fog with its paddles to help the ship move or even spin in place.
Soren was a bit sad that he couldn’t climb in and help out, because he had to admit, it looked like fun. However, they were back in society again, and he had to think of his station.
The creaking and slight bending of the bamboo deck alerted him of Baroness Hammermore’s approach, and he straightened his spine and discreetly wiped his cheeks. He pushed some of his unruly silvery-blue locks back behind his ear. Yuel had done a decent job trimming it, but he could really use a good haircut. For now, it would have to do.
“Your eyes must have thirsted for this view,” the dark-haired Lady said good-naturedly as she came to lean on the railing next to him. Other than some light-pink patches of skin that had yet to tan, there was nothing left of the acid burns that had marred her face by this point.
Soren nodded. “I’ve wondered a time or two if I would ever see it again. It’s as pretty as I recall... if a bit smaller.”
Lady Hammermore hummed. “Spending time out in the grand sea of clouds tends to do that. So, did you send word that you’re coming?”
Soren looked over at her with a grin. “Nope! And I can’t wait to see their faces.”
The Lady barked out a laugh. “Hah! I’m sure they’ll be priceless.”
“Well, you’re welcome to come ashore to see them, my Lady Baroness,” Soren offered. “Maybe stay for tea?”
The Lady Hammermore grimaced a little at the use of her title. “Yeah, I’m still not used to all that hoity-toity stuff. Sitting up straight, no elbows on the table, eating with my mouth closed... Not my thing.”
“Hoity...? That’s just basic table manners!” Soren protested.
“Well, either way, I’m already paying Captain Russel an extortionate amount to swing by Thornholm for us. The man’s a worse crook than I ever was! I’d hate to see what he’d charge me for an extra hour’s delay.”
“It’d probably be more like two hours,” Soren admitted. “Three at most.”
“Yeah, I’ll have to pass.”
“Fair enough.”
Heavy, almost nervous-sounding footfalls on the deck alerted Soren that—as if summoned by the very mention of him—Captain Russel was approaching. The hefty man sported a thick black beard and a wide-rimmed leather hat, and was wringing his hands like usual.
“Ah, honoured guests! There you are, there you are...” he muttered, almost to himself. “As you can see, we’re approaching Thistlebloom! The marina is a little small for our vessel, but my helmsman says we can make it work. I just hope we don’t run into any delays with the manoeuvring; I hadn’t really factored in a complicated docking procedure...”
Captain Hammermore muttered something uncouth under her breath.
Soren stifled a grin, keeping his face smooth. “That’s all right, captain. Since I’m the only one who’ll be disembarking, there’s no need to dock; you can set a course to sail right past the marina. I’d hate to keep you any longer than necessary, so I’ll just hop off.”
The captain squinted at him, clearly hesitant, but he ultimately seemed to realise he was in no position to question a Quinthar about their capabilities and methods. “Well, if you’re sure.”
Soren nodded. “I’ll be fine, trust me. And who knows, mayhap you can even give the Baroness a little discount for the time you’ll save!”
His eyebrows shot up. “Oh, eh, well, like I said, it hadn’t really been factored in in the first place, and ehm... anyway, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go instruct the helmsman on our new course!”
Turning around even before he’d finished his sentence, the man scurried away.
The Lady Hammermore produced a rather un-Lady-like snort. “I think you frightened him, throwing around big scary words like discount.”
“My grandmother did always say the tongue can be sharper than the keenest blade,” Soren replied airily. “Of course, she can literally make people bleed with her voice...”
The baroness shuddered. “So I’ve heard. All the more reason for me to skip teatime.”
“I could go for a cuppa myself,” Isai said, sauntering over. “Though I hear that’s not going to be an option.”
Soren smiled at the white-haired man, who looked dapper as always in his wide-cuffed shirt and suede waistcoat. “Professor. Glad you could tear yourself from your studies for a moment; I was almost feared I’d have to leave without saying farewell.”
“Bah,” the professor said, shaking his head. “I already managed to miss my dear boy Rylan’s departure, I wasn’t about to miss yours too!”
They chatted for a bit longer, as the ship steadily approached the Thistlethorn estate. Soren had a bit of trouble keeping his attention on the conversation, as he was intently watching the activity up on the walls and the dock.
There finally seemed to be some excitement stirring. It appeared the guards had at last spotted his blue hair and signature crimson doublet and sent down word. Exactly as planned.
The big steel net hanging between the walls that protected the marina even started to lower as they approached—something that normally wouldn’t happen for undeclared vessels. Although it came to a halt when the ship started to turn and it became clear to the guards manning the winches on either side that the vessel wouldn’t be entering the marina.
“Well,” Soren said, turning to face the two former pirates at his side. “I believe this is where I get off.”
The Lady Hammermore straightened and brought her hand up in the traditional Quinthar salute, touching her fingers to the outside of her eye. “Thar Thistlethorn, it has been a pleasure.”
“The pleasure has been all mine, my Lady Baroness,” Soren said, returning the salute. As usual, the moment they both held the pose, the world turned briefly monochrome as Ethereon spun into action, all other colours paling in contrast to the blue light burning inside her chest and the green inside his own. Then she dropped her hand and his vision returned to normal.
“It was good to meet you, my boy,” the professor said, pulling him into a hug. “Give your grandmother my best, will you?”
Soren blinked, previously unaware that they had any affiliation. Then again, Isai had long worked for the Thorns. “Of course.”
Finally, his big moment had arrived. Under the curious eyes of the sailors on deck, the guards up on the wall, and the small crowd that had gathered on the docks, Soren stepped up onto the railing, waved at all of the onlookers... and hopped down into the fog.
The sharp gasps dampened abruptly as the thick mist rushed past his ears. However, his mana was already flowing down to his feet, where it connected to his gorgeous, gleaming metal boots. The white runes covering the flexible strips of metal covering his feet brightened as he connected to them, and the small Aurorium nodes lit up with a plethora of colours.
By now, controlling his runegear was as easy as breathing, and he swiftly directed the runes to form small platforms of light beneath his feet, which he used to slow down his fall.
If he’d been outside of the fog, that would’ve been about the extent of what he could do with them. However, with how much lighter he was within it, a few more platforms brought him nearly to a complete stop. Or rather, send him flying forwards through the fog.
The mist roiled around him as he jumped from platform to platform, alternating the activations of his boots as he soared through the mist.
Truthfully, his boots functioned entirely on their own, so unlike those other suckers, he really had gotten two runegear. They were still only C-grade, of course, and not all ‘sentient,’ but still. A win was a win in Soren’s book.
The steel net loomed up from the fog in front of him. It was a bit higher than he’d expected, so he sped up the formation of his little platforms a little to gain some height. The adjustment changed his trajectory just so that he could step onto the thick steel cable and push off.
He continued with a big grin, moving straight towards a herd of mistsheep. Bleating wildly, the fluffy floaters started wiggling their little feet and tails to move out of the way, at the same time dumping some ballast which rained down on the wide, already-stained hat of their herder below.
The herder’s trained seal came darting past, big brown eyes staring curiously at the strange human who’d disturbed his flock.
Soren paid it no mind, his eyes focused on the slowly appearing prize.
As he approached the stone docks at the end of the marina, he leaned back a little, and started rapidly conjuring platform after platform with each of his feet, running up them as if he were ascending a set of stairs.
This was pretty hard work, both in terms of moving his body and in keeping his mana flowing fast enough, but he’d been practising for a reason.
He quickly decreased his speed, trading it for upward momentum, and within seconds, the fog above him thinned, until he broke through the driftline.
His gathered momentum carried him at least six feet further into the air before gravity won out. However, at that point, he estimated he was close enough. A few more platforms would be enough to stretch out his descent exactly to the edge of the dock.
For a moment, he feared his moment was about to be ruined by the lanky kitchen hand that stood in his way, gaping at him like a gullbrain, but Ava—his family’s blonde sous chef—pulled the lad back just in time to make room as Soren casually stepped onto the dock, his shiny boots clicking on the stone.
“Hello everyone!” he exclaimed cheerily. “Missed m—oomph!”
Zahra didn’t actually manage to knock the wind out of him, thanks to his Mana Shell, but she got close.
Laughing, he returned the hug, burying his nose in her dark curls for a moment.
She pulled back, staring at him in disbelief. “Great Spirits, am I dreaming?!”
“Nope,” Soren said, grinning widely. “You—hey! You’re supposed to pinch your own cheeks to check!”
“That’s for making us worry!” Her smile faltered as she dropped her hands to his shoulders. “What... what about Rylan?”
“He’s safe too,” Soren replied, nodding reassuringly. “He promised to visit... when he’s ready.”
“Thank the Zenith,” Zahra sighed, seeming to almost sag with relief.
Soren hadn’t realised he could miss the sound of someone primly clearing their throat. However, when Miss Amberleaf appeared next to him to do just that, he learned he could, and in fact, had.
Zahra dropped her hands and moved back a little at the subtle reprimand, but there was still a mischievous twinkle in her silvery-grey eyes as she curtsied and said, “I meant to say, of course: welcome back, milord.”
“Indeed,” Miss Amberleaf agreed, performing a deeper, impeccable curtsy, her grey topknot so tight it resisted gravity’s every attempt to move it as she did. However, her voice was shaky and tinged with emotion as she continued speaking. “It is a true joy to be able to welcome you back, milord. You’ve been sorely, sorely missed. Only the spirits know how much.”
“Thank you, Miss Amberleaf,” Soren replied, feeling his own throat constrict at the reminder of the grief his absence must have caused. “Would you care to direct me to my family?”
“Of course, milord—Lord Bryce and milady Helen are out hunting, but the Countess should be up in the tower library and the Lady Dionne in the greenhouse.”
“Much obliged,” Soren said, already moving towards the building where his mother cared for her collection of plants. His grandmother could wait.
Behind him, Miss Amberleaf started issuing orders, sending Ava to prepare a true feast, and Zahra to air out and prepare his chambers.
Ah... it was good to be home.
Author's note:
I—I mean, Soren—couldn't resist the theatrics. ^^
If you're going to make an entrance anyway, why not a flashy one, right? ;)
Anyway, thanks for reading! :)
Comments
StarOfTime
He deserves to be dramatic!
Fabian
Thanks for the chapter!
