The group ate while chatting, laughter and teasing in abundance as they unwound from the unexpected chaos.
Sophie suddenly clicked her fingers. "Rats—I forgot to tell you. The Archmage is awarding your team five hundred points for your impressive performance."
Fergis grinned. "Now that's good news. If we manage the Bluestone mission, we'll break into the mid-tier club."
"Mid-tier club?" Sophie asked.
"It's slang," Fergis explained. "For the second-year teams. The third years are called top-tier clubs. They've got the most points—mostly just because they've been around longer."
Sophie nodded slowly. "So it's a kind of reputation system?"
"Exactly. Points, progress, missions—it's how you earn your place."
As the night wound down, Sophie leaned over to give Cane a soft kiss.
Then she and Dhalia left with Clara, still chatting quietly.
"Big day tomorrow?" Fergis asked, lingering.
"Seems like every day is big lately," Cane admitted. "Captain Rhiati should arrive with the Defiant. I finally finished the crew's gear."
Fergis narrowed his eyes, voice low. "So… we're training in the capital at the estate you just purchased? I told you this was a setup. The Archmage dangled that carrot, knowing you'd take the bait."
Cane laughed. "You helped convince me."
"I know! That's why he's the Archmage. He knew I would do that."
"Maybe so," Cane said, shaking his head as he shut the door behind Fergis. For once, he planned to get a full night's sleep.
A brown blur shot through the window. Pudding landed gracefully on his perch, blinking wide amber eyes.
Cane smiled and tossed him a scrap of meat he'd saved from the food cart.
HOOACH.
The cry was satisfied, low and content.
The room settled into darkness, and Cane drifted into sleep almost instantly.
But a few hours later, his eyes snapped open.
Something had changed.
He lay still, scanning the quiet room, until he felt it again.
A pulse, soft and warm, against his wrist.
He looked down at the shell bracelet.
It pulsed a second time.
Neri was close.
Which meant only one thing.
Rhiati—and the Defiant—had arrived.
**
Neri's sea-colored eyes shimmered as she rested her hand on the carefully wrapped body of one of their own. The crew of the Defiant was quieter than usual, moving under a heavy haze of grief. The bright energy they often carried into port had dimmed, each sailor lost in their own thoughts.
They had called her Tulip for so long that only Captain Rhiati remembered her real name—Tasha Quaui. She had a thing for pink tulips. No matter where they made landfall, somehow, she'd always find one.
Her death came during a running battle—three enemy ships, one Defiant. They'd used their speed and tactics to stall for reinforcements, and it had worked. But the cost...
A crate, shattered by cannon fire, sent a jagged sliver through her chest. The leather armor she wore had torn like tissue. It happened in a heartbeat. One moment she ducking for cover. The next, she was on the deck, still.
Maude approached from the starboard side. In the predawn hush, she'd found a quiet corner to shed a few tears and raise a private toast.
"Why didn't we give Tulip a sailor's burial?" she asked softly.
Neri shook her head, dark blue hair loose in the wind. "If I'd been closer, maybe... maybe I could have done something."
"No," Maude replied gently. "I saw the wound. Straight through the heart. No one could've helped."
They both turned at the sound of creaking deck boards. Captain Rhiati joined them, boots measured against the wood. She understood death—understood its rhythm in a crew's life. Sailors knew loss. You carried it, or you sank beneath it. Still, some deaths left deeper marks.
Tulip had been the little sister—teased, protected, quietly adored by every single one of them.
Rhiati exhaled slowly.
"Tulip was from an influential family," she said. "Her parents are gone now, but there's a family plot… a small field of tulips. Her Da and Mum are buried there. When she joined us, she made one request—if she died, take her home."
"A field of tulips," Maude whispered, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "She'd like that."
Rhiati nodded. The black ribbons in her hair fluttered slightly. They were her quiet tradition. Normally red—for pride, for family. But when a crew member died, she wore black.
"A friend is waiting at the dock with a wagon," Ria said softly. "It's time to say your goodbyes."
**
Cane trotted toward town, the steady thump of his boots the only sound on the dark, cobbled streets. The lamps were unlit. No merchants, no dockworkers—just the crashing of waves and the occasional yeow of a hunting alley cat.
He slowed to a walk as he reached the harbor, turning down the third dock toward Slip 3—the Defiant's usual mooring.
Her sails were down, the ship coasting silently into position. Cane watched from the shadows as three sailors jumped onto the dock and secured the lines with practiced hands.
Neri spotted him.
The grief she'd barely held at bay came crashing down. She leapt from the ship, wrapping her arms around him, burying her tears against his shoulder.
Cane's smile faltered. He stiffened slightly, sensing the weight in the air. Panic flashed through him—his eyes darted toward the rail. But then he saw Rhiati, calm and composed, giving orders to her crew.
Relieved, though still uncertain, he stroked Neri's dark blue hair gently, saying nothing.
Captain Rhiati approached, her boots clicking softly on the planks.
"Quit hogging Cane," she said, voice gruff but lined with kindness.
Neri stepped back reluctantly, only for Ria to pull Cane into a tight, steadying hug of her own.
"We lost someone," she said softly, seeing the question in his eyes. "A young woman we called Tulip."
Cane nodded. He understood loss. It lived with him daily.
"What can I do?"
"You can carry her for us," Rhiati said. "None of us… can bear the parting."
"Of course."
He followed her aboard the Defiant, where the crew stood in silence, heads bowed. Cane gently lifted the wrapped body into his arms. Sniffs and quiet sobs echoed behind him as he carried her down the gangplank.
Rhiati led the way.
At the end of the dock, a lone teamster stood beside a wagon. Inside was a long wooden box.
Ria paused in front of the driver, her gaze sharp and clear.
"Make sure this delivery is made. Understand?"
The teamster nodded solemnly.
"I'll take it from here," he said, watching as the captain opened the lid of the coffin and Cane gently placed Tulip inside.
Maude watched from the rail, her ginger hair tucked under a sweat-stained bandanna. The crew stood quietly beside her.
"Tulip would've liked that," she murmured. "Being carried from the ship by a handsome young blacksmith."
Several crew members nodded.
"Yeah… she would've."
"Hell—I'd like that."
A ripple of laughter passed among them, a small moment of levity breaking through the grief. Just enough to hint that this, too, would pass.
Cane followed Rhiati back to the Defiant, walking in silence. He respected it, welcomed it. But his thoughts turned inward.
If I'd finished the HAVs sooner… maybe Tulip would still be here. I need to do more.
As they reached the deck, Rhiati spoke.
"Welcome aboard, Cane."
"Thanks."
Cane nodded politely to the crew, then took a seat on a nearby crate. He swiped his ring, summoning the Breel Counterstrike blades. They pulsed softly on the deck.
"Please line up," he said.
He pulled out the HAVs—each one a glacial blue vest bearing the Ice Gryphon emblem—and stacked them carefully.
"Captain, you first."
Rhiati smiled and peeled off her leather vest. "Can I try this on now?"
Cane nodded. "There's a magnetic lapel that runs from under the arm to the waist. Just slip it on and press it down."
She picked up the vest, turning it over in her hands. "This is so light. Is it sturdy?"
"Hexagonal Adamantium Vest," Cane said. "HAV, for short. It'll stop anything short of a direct cannonball. Shot or sword, it'll protect the wearer. And it floats. If you're knocked overboard, you'll stay buoyant and be able to swim back."
"It floats?" Rhiati grinned. "Don't make claims you can't back up. If we tossed you overboard in one of these… what would happen?"
"Well…" Cane shrugged. "I wouldn't be thrilled, but it works. I tested it myself."
She winked. "Anything else?"
"I added extra weight to the back. If someone's unconscious in the water, it keeps them face-up."
Rhiati blinked. "Really?"
She eyed the swords next, picking one up and nearly dropping it. "What is this thing?"
"Lightweight, strong, keen-edged," Cane said. "It can absorb a strike from a heavier weapon and counterattack immediately."
"Everyone gets a HAV and a blade," Rhiati barked. The crew moved forward, eager hands testing gear as Cane handed everything out.
"You put a lot of thought into this," Rhiati said, adjusting her vest.
"A bit," Cane admitted. "We'll see how the field test goes."
The crew gathered around, trying on their gear, testing stances, checking fit and movement.
"As I understand it, you've got something else for us?" Rhiati asked, still adjusting her HAV.
"Yes," Cane said, glancing at the sky. The first blush of dawn painted the horizon, but the sun had yet to break.
"I'm just not sure how we're going to get it aboard."
Rhiati's psi-rune glowed briefly. She smirked.
"Weigh anchor! Hoist the forward sail! Navigator to the helm!"
The crew jumped to motion. It looked chaotic—but it wasn't. Every step had purpose. Sailors scrambled with practiced ease.
"Hurry up, or I'll have you lot pulling oars!" Rhiati snapped, already moving toward the helm, where an older woman with peppered hair took control of the wheel.
Neri looped an arm through Cane's. As First Mate and healer, this wasn't her responsibility now.
"How's my sister?"
"Selene?" Cane smiled. "She's doing well. I'm assisting her in the Advanced Water Elemental class."
"Assisting?" Neri turned those aquamarine eyes on him. "Aren't you a first-year cadet?"
"Sure," Cane said casually. "But I guess I'm kinda amazing."
Neri laughed, then covered her mouth. "I'm sure you are."
A short while later, the Defiant dropped anchor again.
Meanwhile, back in the Academy's hidden harbor…
The metallurgy class was already hard at work, assembling the main gun.
Brammel scratched his head. "No, no, no—that's the breech, lad. It doesn't go there."
Ignasius stood with Telamon and Selene Morva, arms crossed as the dwarf barked at his students.
"Are you sure you know how to assemble this?" Ignasius asked dryly.
Brammel shrugged. "Sure. Mostly. I mean, Cane built it, but I was there helping. Gods, lad—don't install the breech upside-down!"
Eventually, they got it assembled. Brammel did a full inspection, muttering to himself.
"Where's the ammo?"
One student hesitated. "Still in the metallurgy shop. We forgot the encased cartridges."
Brammel's eyes nearly bulged out of his head. "You lot—back to the shop! Bring every cartridge we have!"
The students bolted.
Brammel let out a long breath, then laughed softly. "Cursed but brilliant lad…"
Back on the Defiant, Cane moved to the rear of the ship. Just behind the helm was a flat space—perfect for what he had in mind.
He swiped his ring and withdrew a rune marker, placing it carefully onto the wood.
"This should be perfect," he said aloud.
Rhiati stood nearby, her psi-rune glowing as she conversed with the Archmage.