Just as Amelia felt the sudden urge to tippy-tap her feet in excitement, her thoughts were interrupted by Dagon suddenly shouting, "Captain on deck!" prompting her to turn, along with every other sailor on the deck, to face towards the bridge where a very familiar pair of perfectly-shaped horns was making their way towards them.

Her girlfriend—radiating competence and oozing confidence—was flanked by Finella, who was carrying a spool of thick rope on her shoulder. Behind the Northern officer, Mel and Aiden trailed. The group moved towards the bow, passed the heavy flak battery and Turret Two. Serena used her foot to reposition a box before stepping onto it, taking a moment to survey the excited and sweating crowd.

From what Amelia could see, Serena was managing the heat well; her uniform was immaculate, with no sign of an undone button or loosened shirt. Only the faintest glimmer of sweat graced her brow. The fierce glare she was giving to anyone who dared to meet her eye would have worried Amelia if she didn't know Serena well enough now to know what she was doing.

"Look at you all!" Serena exclaimed, her lips curling into a half-sneer. "One look at a pair of breasts and you're barely able to stand still!" Her taunt earned her a handful of nervous chuckles. "Don't think I don't understand what's going through your minds. Before I grant you liberty, allow me to remind you that whether you're in uniform or not, I expect you to maintain the etiquette expected of a crewmember of the Vengeance!"

"Aye, Captain!" the crowd replied in chorus.

"If I hear reports of anyone getting into drunken brawls, or bringing disrespect to my command or the command of my officers, then you'll be lucky to get away with docked pay!"

"Aye, Captain!" came the chorused response, a little more forceful this time. Everyone knew there was a time and a place for casual, lax behaviour. They further knew that if they were too casual at the wrong time or too lax at the wrong place, then Serena wouldn't hesitate to enforce standards with a whip.

"However," Serena continued, her voice enhanced by her aura. "It's not the demon that drinks a little too much that I'm most worried about. You see, I've heard many rumours about Ishaq and its liberal nature. Rumours that seem to hold some weight. Therefore…" Serena trailed off. She turned and nodded at Finella, who passed her the spool of rope. With an accurate throw, Serena launched the rope over one of the turrets, where its hooped end lay visible to all.

It was a hangman's rope. Its noose shifted in the wind, casting an ominous spell over everyone watching. Amelia couldn't help but swallow. Despite the Southern temperature, it suddenly felt awfully cold.

"The demon that worries me most is the foolish demon," Serena intoned, her voice dark and bitter. "It's the demon that thinks they can end their contract whenever they please. It's the demon that becomes enticed by a pretty pair of horns and decides that maybe, just maybe, they'll stay in Ishaq." She took a breath and said with definitive finality, "That demon will hang." Serena waited a few seconds as the threat marinated in everyone's mind before raising her voice and barking, "Is that clear!?"

"Aye, Captain!"

Serena continued to give her liberty briefing. Not all crew members would have liberty at once; a rotation system was established so that a sizable number of crew members would always be on duty, either performing maintenance tasks or keeping quarterdeck watch. Furthermore, they would still be sleeping on the ship and would be under a strict curfew. When they would have liberty, Serena made sure to emphasise her behavioural expectations, and even took a moment to discuss cultural sensitivity.

"There are humans in Ishaq," Serena explained. "And they've been part of Ishaqian culture as long as any of you have been part of whatever rock you came from. They are Cascadian citizens and were not, in any way, involved in the Republican rebellion. There won't be any incidents, will there?"

"No, Captain!" the crowd replied.

"As for the local demons," Serena added. "Keep in mind the forwardness of our recent guest, Sayyid Bastet. Most of you, myself included, are from a more reserved cultural background, such as Samino. But"—Serena gestured at the crowd—"we have plenty of Manwese, a smattering of Ainese, and our fair share of Northerners and Southerners too!"

"Damn right," Tomes growled, as Finella nodded in the background.

"So make sure you think with your head and not your horns!" Serena commanded. "We are in a different Terra Firma, with different laws and customs. Don't do anything that'll bring a complaint from their overlord!" After yet another affirmative reply from the crowd, Serena continued, "And one last thing. I'm sure some of you will face questions regarding whispers that a certain human healer"—Serena's eyes flicked to Amelia momentarily—"was once on this ship. Whatever the question, you don't answer a damn thing and immediately return here and report to the Officer of the Watch, is that clear?"

"Aye, Captain!"

Serena nodded in approval. After finishing her speech, she directed the crowd to line up as Tomes processed them, handing out their wages and organising them into their liberty schedules. Other than the occasional complaint regarding being allocated to a less desirable watch, the process continued smoothly. Serena looked over the crowd for a minute before whispering something to Finella. Then, she approached Amelia and Dagon, flanked by Finella, Mel, and Aiden.

"Captain," Dagon intoned, before nodding at the dangling rope. "Let's hope we don't have to use that."

"Let's hope," Serena echoed, peering over the railings down each side of the docks. "I would have thought a customs officer or the Ishaqian dockmaster would've made an appearance," she mused before shaking her head and tapping her foot. "Right then. Tasks. Firstly"—she gestured at Aiden—"Officer Adachi and I are going to check the aethergram office and see if Intelligence has anything for us. Hopefully, they've taken the report we sent them from the fortress seriously. If the Indefatigable's crew are lucky, Intelligence has already mobilised a rescue operation and they're searching the Passage from the East as we speak. If Menes is true to his word, then he'll be organising one from Ishaq's end as well. Afterwards, I'll take Acting-Captain Voss with me and report to the Ishaqian Council."

Facing Finella, Serena continued, "I plan to send a query to Intelligence for any information on the Blackhorn, but I don't plan on sitting around and waiting for an answer. While Intelligence's horns grow, we'll do our own busywork." Serena gestured to Mel, instructing Finella, "With the exception of Officer Mori, take your squad and scout out Ishaq. Find everything you can about the local pirate situation, specifically regarding the Blackhorn. Find out which crews like to gossip about him and, more importantly, which crews don't. From Menes' words, these pirates have their horns stuck in half the businesses from here to Shiloh, so see what you can uncover regarding that. I'll send Aiden to join you after we're done."

"Aye, Captain," Finella saluted.

"As for you…" Serena mused, turning to face Mel. "I'm sure you've noticed, Officer Mori, as well as the rest of us here, that Miss Liona is doing her best impression of a peeka that's been confined indoors for too long." Serena glanced at Amelia, her lip curling in amusement.

"H-hey!" Amelia protested. "I'm just excited about exploring Ishaq! Think of all the new types of food! All the new people! I want to try kite flying and visit the hot springs and find some of that wire for my crystalcraft project and…" Amelia continued to elaborate her planned itinerary in one large breath.

When she finally finished, Serena said with a tinge of amusement, "As you can see, there's no hope of keeping her inside, is there?" At her girlfriend's words, everyone around Amelia shook their heads in agreement. "Therefore, I'm assigning Officer Mori to accompany Miss Liona while I fulfil my other obligations. Officer Mori…" Serena looked at Mel, her forehead furrowing. "Make sure she stays out of trouble."

"Aye, Captain!" Mel exclaimed, saluting earnestly. Then she deflated slightly and asked in a quiet voice, "How… How am I supposed to do that?" Mel glanced at Amelia with a look that seemed to carry the ridiculous implication that trouble and Amelia were somehow inevitable!

What cheek! Amelia thought, puffing her cheeks out for good measure.

Serena, with a glimmer of amusement in her eyes said, "If you solve that great mystery, then be sure to let us know."

Dagon chuckled. The First Officer reached over and placed a gentle hand on Mel's shoulder. Leaning in, he said, "Good luck, Officer Mori."

"Thanks," Mel replied with a nervous smile.

"Do you hear that?" Serena asked, tilting her head slightly. "I thought it was the celebrations, but it sounds like fighting. Close by, as well." Her girlfriend raised an eyebrow and, without another word, walked over the Vengeance's gangway and onto the raised platform that hugged the ship on three sides.

Amelia bounced after her, followed by everyone else. She cocked her ear, catching the distinct noises of aggressive yelling and violence standing out from the background noise of jubilation and excess. As the group walked, Amelia realised the fighting was taking place just below their platform. Thankfully, she couldn't make out the sharp sound of blades, but she could hear frequent grunts and groans, followed by the distinctive sound of fleshy thumps.

"Sounds like…" she muttered.

"A brawl," Aiden finished, coming to a stop.

"What in the Seven Hells caused this?" Dagon asked, gesturing to the dock space below.

They gathered at the edge of the platform, looking down at what Aiden correctly described as a brawl. Fifty, perhaps a hundred demons were fighting each other over some unknown slight. They yelled in Hakian and Treki, their shouts and accents sounding strange to Amelia's ears. While the situation was clearly out of control, it seemed the violence was largely limited to aggressive shoving and the occasional punch. The horde was split into two sides that roughly squared off against each other. When one was pushed or struck down, they were quickly recovered by their fellow comrades who would try to return the favour.

"It's not because of us, is it?" Mel asked. "Look, they keep pointing at the ship."

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Serena clicked her tongue. "What kind of operation is Ishaq running? Are the guards not going to do anything?" She pointed at the edges of the crowd, where a little over a dozen guards, lightly armoured and carrying cudgels, seemed hesitant to keep the two sides from continuing to fight. They lingered around the edges, looking as if they had no intention of getting involved.

"Guards!" Serena called, her authoritative voice capturing the attention of a few who turned her way. "Why do you just stand there?" At her words, the guards said nothing, only glancing at each other before continuing their apparent duty of non-interference.

"Seven Hells…" Finella muttered. "Does anyone here know Hakian? Or Treki?"

"Something…" Dagon frowned in concentration, "Something about a curse? An omen? I'm not sure, they're speaking so fast. Shame Sayyid Bastet is no longer here; he could have translated for us."

Serena clicked her tongue once more. "Well, in his absence, I don't intend to let a riot take place right next to the Vengeance. I'll find the—ah…" Serena trailed off, turning as a shadow loomed over them.

Amelia turned to see that a massive Arakian man had appeared. His stature was such that he dwarfed Dagon's Southern frame, and was likely taller than Menes by a few inches. Perhaps the only taller demon Amelia had seen was the mighty Lord Guardian in Asamaywa. Even though Amelia was tall for a human of this world—standing at an exact height of six feet—she felt tiny near this Arakian giant.

The man barely registered their group, only grunting at them as he came to stand at the railing and look at the chaos below. His face twisted, contorting in anger as he looked down at the brawling demons. His yellow eyes were ablaze with fury. He muttered something about 'damn superstitions' and then, without a moment of hesitation, picked up a nearby barrel, heaving it high above his head before launching it downwards. The barrel slammed into the centre of the fighting, shattering to cries of pain and throwing its contents of grain across the stone floor.

Only then did a lull in the violence occur.

The massive man took a deep breath, roaring in thickly-accented Imperial, "Serjeant! Get those men under manners!"

One of the guards, one with an unkempt uniform and epaulettes on his shoulders, hastily acknowledged the order and began rallying his men. Despite the sudden eagerness from the guards to intervene, it apparently wasn't happening fast enough for the Arakian giant, as he shouted further, "Get in there!" He jabbed a finger at two guards lingering at the outskirts, motioning aggressively to the crowd. "Get in there and start smashing some horns! Break it up, damn you! Break it up!"

With the final command, the guards surged into action, raising their cudgels and fighting to bring the rabble under control. In Amelia's opinion, the guards normally would have lost such a battle, but it seemed the presence of the massive demon cooled the brawlers' fighting spirit. Within a few minutes, the fighting ceased entirely, and dozens of men stood quietly, nursing their wounds with tied hands.

"Damn superstitions," the man said again. He sucked in air, moving his head over the platform as if to spit before suddenly stopping. He seemed to reconsider, glancing at Serena and everyone else. His eyes only briefly stopped on Amelia before moving on. The man swallowed loudly, sniffed, wiped his nose with one hand and then held out his other hand to Serena. "Khalid Tariq, Dockmaster of Ishaq. Call me Tariq."

"...Pleasure," Serena intoned, taking the man's hand into her own. "Captain Serena Halen of Her Majesty's Imperial cruiser, the Vengeance."

Tariq snorted. Running a hand through his short, black hair, he said, "Pleasure. Right. You Samino are always so polite. Even when you insult and fight, you treat it as if you're drinking tea."

"And is that," Serena retorted with a sly smile and nodding towards the remnants of the brawl below, "how Ishaqians fight?" Tariq scoffed, but undeterred, Serena continued, "They were pointing at my ship. Why is that, Dockmaster Tariq?"

Tariq opened his mouth before hesitating. He sniffed and then spent a few seconds looking over everyone in the group. Whatever he was looking for, Amelia didn't know, but he didn't seem to find it. Sighing, the massive Arakian rubbed his temple and said in a quieter voice, "Two nights ago, we had an arcwhale stranding." He jerked his head—crowned with heavy curled horns—to the south and said, "In the lower ring. Normally, they fall into the lumina or retreat to Rhaknam's domain to die. This one didn't get a lesson and decided to fall into the city. A baby as well."

"...A child?" Serena queried, her expression narrowing as Tariq nodded.

Amelia felt her forehead furrow as well.

A child? she thought. Could it be…?

"Half the city is celebrating the end of the war," Tariq explained. "The other half are partaking in ritualistic celebrations to appease Rhaknam. Half the councillors think we should return the body to the Shattered Isles, while the other half thinks we should build a pyramid to honour it. The reason why these idiots"—Tariq nodded towards the injured below—"decided to start fighting was because they thought your black ship was an omen. A precursor to Rhaknam's arrival. That's what they were fighting about. Bah!" Tariq squeezed the railing, his knuckles whitening. "They wouldn't have dared to cause this scene when they were still indentured."

"Indentured?" Amelia asked before she could think otherwise.

"That's right," Tariq answered with a nod. "You can thank Saladin for this, as mighty and wise as he is. Ishaqian citizenship used to be valued. It used to be earned." The dockmaster moved a hand from the railing and squeezed it tight into a fist. "Now look! They come to work, satisfied only by their wages. What does it matter if they act out and receive a few lashes or are thrown out? They'll come back tomorrow to work for someone else. I need workers to move cargo and clean hulls, not twist their horns off over Hakian and Treki superstitions!"

"...I see," Amelia said. She was familiar with the concept of indentured servitude. Some nations in her old world still practised it, although not the one she hailed from. It was a form of labour in which people signed a contract—otherwise known as an indenture—to work without pay, sometimes as a punishment, and sometimes to earn something at the end, such as the citizenship Tariq mentioned.

It wasn't an institution Amelia liked; it was a little too close to outright slavery for her to be comfortable with it. In fact, it only took an abusive contract and for the authorities to look the other way for the indenture to be slavery. Slavery itself was one of the topics Amelia had spoken to Serena about early on, discovering that the practice had been outlawed in Centralis nearly a hundred and fifty years ago, in the Northern Terra-Firma a generation later, and in the East a generation after that. The South had outlawed it last, only seventy years ago, but it seemed from Tariq's words that the institution of indentured servitude had persisted beyond that.

When it came to the Western Terra-Firma, she'd read conflicting reports. She couldn't find much mention of the practice existing in the plateau cities of Ipar Binnari and its tri-horned inhabitants, but its neighbour, Salduna, seemed to maintain some kind of indentured system. When it came to the most mysterious part of the West, the exotic cities of Ichtaca, Cozamanya, and Yolcoatl—full of the ethereal-looking golden-eyed Yoaltans with their swept-back horns—Amelia had struggled to find any authoritative source on the matter.

Well, she did have an invitation from the reclusive Western Overlord to visit, didn't she?

Perhaps after they'd finished their duties in the South, Amelia could persuade Serena to make a little side trip?

"The arcwhale," Serena said, interrupting Amelia's train of thought. Her girlfriend cast a glance her way before continuing, "I might have some information. During our travel through the Passage, we encountered—" Serena paused mid-sentence as Tariq raised a hand to cut her off.

"Sayyid Bastet told me everything that occurred, Captain Halen," the dockmaster said. "An aetherscope ping wouldn't kill it, but it might have contributed to this one's death, if it is the same one. No, this one was hunted." Tariq's expression darkened. "Recently, too. The harpoon wounds were fresh. Poor thing. Perhaps the sensory organs were damaged from the ping, and some local pirate group thought it an opportunity? Bah! I bet it was those Red Hands. Rumour is that you've taken a low-tolerance approach to the inhabitants of the Passage, Captain Halen. If you find a Red Hand ship, I wouldn't waste any time with a warning shot. Blast them into under-sky, that's what I say."

"...Noted," Serena said after a moment of consideration. Amelia could tell Serena was thinking the same thing: Tariq claimed Menes had told him everything, but considering how he glanced over Amelia, it seemed that Menes had held to his word and not shared the information about her magic and identity that he'd so sneakily gathered.

"I have Acting-Captain Voss finalising his reports inside," Serena continued. "Has Sayyid Bastet organised a search party? Time is of the…" she trailed off as the dockmaster shook his head.

"He tried this morning, last I heard." Tariq shrugged nonchalantly. "The Council are too busy locking horns over the arcwhale incident. They ignored him. Not a priority."

"They ignored him?" Serena asked, a note of venom in her voice. "The man's a Cascadian Lord."

Tariq laughed. "Welcome to Ishaq, Captain Halen. He'll get their horns straightened out soon. Sayyid Bastet is respected, but he has his enemies. Not all the councillors like the influence he, a Sayyid, has gathered in Ishaq. Some might prefer it if he returned to Haki." The dockmaster sniffed, saying, "Not that they'll say it to his face."

"And what's your opinion regarding Sayyid Bastet?" Serena questioned.

"I said he was respected, didn't I?" Tariq raised an eyebrow. "We're old friends. We both have the same boss. You should meet him, by the way, once he makes land again. You, him, and Menes might be able to force the councillors to stop their yapping. You're a Speaker, right?"

"Right."

"Narean?"

"Yes."

The dockmaster snorted. "The boss is a Speaker, so you'll fit right in. You'll get more respect from everyone in Ishaq if you don't hold your Lordship over anyone. We respect captains down here. We respect Speakers. We respect fishermen and shipbuilders and farmers. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"...Yes," Serena said.

"We'll get on just fine." Tariq sniffed and continued, "I'll give your men white paint. I strongly suggest you paint the ship. It's bad enough here with the southerly wind cooling our horns, but if you have to go to Haki or Trekell, then you'll cook your crew alive. It's another world over the mountains, especially as we approach the next moonrain." Before Serena could say anything else, Tariq snapped his fingers and asked, "Paperwork? I might look like I'm only good at throwing barrels, but I keep my books clean. Visas and vaccination documents, if you would."

Amelia saw Serena's lip curl. "Dagon. Tomes should have them. Go and get them."

"Aye, Captain," Dagon replied, quickly saluting and hurrying back up the gangway.

"Your boss," Serena said, turning back to the dockmaster. "What is his Word?"

"Mmm," Tariq hummed, reaching up and scratching his neck. "Bayle."

"Bayle?" Serena frowned. "I thought Speaker Rami was a mage."

"Speaker Rami is a mage," Tariq responded. "And a fine Igni Speaker, at that. Your information is outdated. The head of Ishaqian forces changed while you were in the Passage." The dockmaster chuckled, saying, "Menes was surprised as well, but the new boss has a strong personality like he has, so they'll get along fine." Tariq met Serena's eye. "Some war hero from the North. Not used to the heat. Doesn't like talking about himself. I wonder how he ended up getting a commission down here…"

Serena was quiet for a few seconds. As every moment of silence continued, Amelia slowly began to realise what her girlfriend was thinking.

"This Bayle Speaker," Serena said slowly. "What's his name?"

Tariq scratched his nose before answering.

It was a name Amelia didn't think she would hear again so soon, and, judging by the way Serena's nostrils flared and her expression darkened, it was a name that she too didn't expect to encounter, especially all the way down in Ishaq, so far from the previous conflict.

"Say that again," Serena said, her voice cold.

"Hmm?" Tariq hummed with a frown. "The boss's name is Korvus Maranai."

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