Chapter 3: Chapter 3: First Victory.
"...What happened?" "Can't believe this…" "Cyka Blyat."
I stood there for a moment, next to me the corpse of a man I killed. A man so inconsequential I didn't even bother Observing him, whose name will never be known to me. He spent his final moments as Ugly the Jailer, choking on his blood, struck by his own blade, doomed by his own mistakes.
He'd still be alive if he'd chosen another path, if he didn't accept slavery as a trade. If he showed the slightest bit of mercy, even a small glimmer of inner conflict, I wouldn't be able to do what I've done.
But he did choose the wrong side, he did commit those obscenities. And I did kill him, there is no need to spend too much time contemplating the death of every fool, not when my own life is at stake.
I took one look at the masses, the lot of them still shaking in trepidation. Eyes wide, pupils dilated, mouth opening and closing as they searched for the right words. Even the most stoic looking of them was bewildered, as if he'd seen a unicorn…wait, we're in the Potterverse…as if he'd seen an honest politician.
Who could fault them? They'd just seen a literal child free himself when they couldn't, walk up to their jailer, goad him into striking him only to make the man's sword, keys and balls disappear. Same child proceeded to call back the sword, stab the jailer in the throat, give a one liner then turn around to scare the shit out of them Eren Yeager style minus the cringe and the man bun.
'Observe.' For a few seconds, I scanned each and every person. Ignoring the few 'Dings' of the system, I quickly skimmed over the information.
[Observe Lvl 1- 4]
'Nice.'
I didn't get invaluable intel from this. As a matter of fact, it only availed me basic information I could gleam after a few minutes of normal observation, but these were minutes and I did not have and information I did need. Leveling up the skill was also of great importance, If I do manage to get out of here in one piece.
"Kid." A calm voice called out "Are you planning on using those keys or what?"
It belonged to a gruff looking old man at least twice as tall as me. If he wasn't sitting, I'd have to look up as high as I could and then some if I wanted to face him. Old man seemed to be in his forties, salt and pepper hair, laughter marks and all. But you can never be sure in a world where fat kids can make you faint with a stick. His smile was disarming, some would even call it charming, if he wasn't covered head to toe in shite.
All in all, he had the flavor of a friendly neighbor who loves firearms. The kind who's nice, if a bit stern. His daughter is usually a real knockout, but if he suspects you'd even think of maybe looking in her general direction in a parallel universe…Well, it was nice knowing you.
"Still thinking about it." I smiled, picking them out of my inventory. "If I free you now, you might get funny ideas. It wouldn't be fun if some of you just blitzed out of here, inevitably getting caught and ruining everyone's chances."
"I have to agree on that point." He nodded, earning protests from a couple loudmouthed idiots. "But I don't think you're able to take over a frigate on your own, unless you can make twelve dozen men disappear before they cut you to pieces."
He had a point, though I took care not to show it.
"Even then, You'd have to deal with the wizards on board." He said, his tone sterner than before. "We can't do that either. We can't escape from these chains, we can't get rid of that arsewipe and we sure as hell can't get out of this ship alive."
"Your point being?"
"You need us, and we need you."
'Impressive.' I thought, appraising the filth covered old man. It took a special kind of person to win over the crowds in such a way, especially in our conditions. He knew I'd get them out of there anyway, knew I didn't have a choice. He also knew that these people would likely stone me as soon as I helped them, let alone listen to my directives.
He managed to work against that, making it seem as if they were appealing to them. He exposed their sheer inability to do what I can in a ruthlessly honest fashion, even if he did misjudge my ability.
The faces shifted from mistrust and outraged to pleading, the change more obvious the longer I stood silent.
" I am not opposed to the idea of working together." I conceded "As long as it is on my terms."
"Name them."
. . .
" They call her The Fancy." Ector, the old man from earlier, said as he rubbed his scarred wrists. " Belongs to the House of Avery, a scary frigate if I've ever seen one. Fifty and six canons, enough space to keep and feed almost two hundred men for months. "
"That's an awful name, we'll rename her once we get rid of the bastards.." I smiled, reassuring the thirty six men that formed our makeshift war council.
"...Two hundred men." I heard someone mutter, it was a pale twenty year old who looked as if he'd seen his crush with another man.
"Why the grim face?" I asked, still smiling. "The old man said she could carry this much, not that she did."
"With this many canons, it's obvious that The Fancy wasn't made to carry this many prisoners, it had to take a toll on its capabilities. " I pressed, not liking how our already flimsy morale was sinking. "Take away the space for carpenters, medics, cooks and whatever retainers and useless servants the Wizards brought."
"I'm not old." Ector growled jokingly "But you're right, the actual number of combat ready would be closer to a hundred."
"Still, they outnumber us three to one." A fairly fit man in his late twenties grumbled, I quickly identified him as one of the loudmouths who shouted at Ector a few moments ago.
"Aye, not a fair fight." I nodded, "I almost pity them."
I only got a few chuckles and timid smiles, which on full grown adults wasn't cute at all. But it was something, and anything that helps lighten the mood was welcome.
"How long have we been captured for?"
"Hard to say, but it can't be more than three days. They fed us twice, each time the guards rotated." It was Ector who answered, obviously.
"I see, so Ugly is the second jailer we've had." He nodded "How long has he been here for?"
"Too long." I smiled at that "But his shift would've ended in a couple hours, and Baldy will be back."
"Good." I ignored the confused gazes, which only grew as my smile widened. "Let's give him a warm welcome, boys."
We were quick to devise a plan, dividing our tasks and rehearsing our different duties. Six of the men were chosen to stay and guard the fort at all times, protecting the women once we've taken the fight to the enemies. We were careful to select those who shared blood or acquaintances and were known for their morality. Even then, they were few enough not to get any funny ideas.
Human nature was a thing, and I wouldn't put it past us to turn on our own people for the illusion of power. The Stanford prison experiment was proof enough…
Once our work was over, we found ourselves with over an hour of free time and nothing vital to do. So we spent that time talking, joking and trying to soothe our nerves. It was at that time that I got to know these people, all the while I kept furiously grinding any skill I had.
Brandon, the easily scared but well meaning youth. Keith, the loudmouthed idiot with so many complexes he'd make Jordan Peterson quit his job. Boris, our Russian. Ector, who seemed to have done everything on earth and then some. Martha, the forty something years old woman whose name grants her grade five plot armor.
"Only a few minutes left." I announced, watching everyone get into position. Some muttered quick payers, others traded jokes and barbs. And I did the only thing I could do, the sensible thing.
'Stealth.' I hid myself, blending within the shadows. As I formulated my intent to activate the skill, I felt more than saw its effects.
I felt myself fading away, my smell getting fainter, my heartbeat quieter. All subconscious moves and twitches brought to a halt, and my very presence hid beneath a shroud.
I was still there, but better hidden than I could ever achieve on my own.
I saw my Mana points lowering, but it was nothing compared to the sensorial fireworks I experienced. I felt something leaving me, a sliver of energy/thought/emotion being guided out of myself into a shape of raw possibility. I felt it coating my body, dissimulating my being through arcane powers.
I felt it within me, raging inside all of myself. So bright and warm and profound that I couldn't help but wonder how I didn't notice it sooner.
'Amazing.' It was, and it was so much more. I felt it vibrate and dance within my soul, its warmth more pleasant than ever as if it was…flattered.
It sang to me, telling me tales of intents and abstracts. Things so beautiful and intimate it would be a fool's errand to try and put it into words. No, the mere thought of it sounded profane.
Sharing these truths would be blasphemy of the highest order.
'So this it, magic.' I thought, forcing myself to calm down. Which was even harder when I felt the magic outside, it was not as intense or meaningful as my own but made up in sheer quantity.
I felt it in the air, in the wood, in the bodies around me from the men in the mast to the cooks sharing stolen chocolate in hiding. I felt it in the waves, in the waters, in the fish and the clouds and…everywhere.
[New skill acquired: Magic sensing lvl1]
On instinct alone, I felt the new jailer getting near the door. I wrestled control of my senses, putting the overwhelming information in the back of my mind as I got ready for action.
The poor sod was really clueless, he got down the stairs with a sigh. Not questioning the idle body of Ugly we'd sat on his chair, he didn't notice the lack of sword, or the smaller number of captives.
"Oi! Don't tell me you're sleeping again?" Baldy spat, moving to shake his friend up "Enriksen's gonna have both our hides if he hears of this!"
"Huh." he voiced, feeling something cold and sticky in his hands. He brought it up, freezing as he saw the blood.
He shook for a bit, completely caught off guard. He didn't register the movement all around him, didn't hear the grunts and heavy steps. As if struck, he took a step back, only now realizing the mess he was in.
It was too late.
Boris slammed on him like a speeding truck. His two meter tall, hundred and fifty kilograms of raw muscle collided with the confused man.
I winced, hearing a clear 'Crack' sound, and so did everyone. Ector alone retained enough sense within him to go ahead and shackle down the nearly flattened sailor.
'As if this man's moving any time soon.' I shook my head, patting Boris's arm signaling him to remove his hand from the pain crazed bastard's mouth.
As soon as he opened it to scream, justifiably, I shoved a bundle of tissue inside it. I felt bad for him, but we couldn't afford to alert the hundred armed men his howls would reach. Not for the relief of an enemy, even a captured one.
It was at this instant that it hit me with all the fuzziness of a homemade cookie.
The relief, the pride of victory, the pleasure of a successful plan.
In an instant, the tension was released. All of us sighed, sharing stupid smiles and teasing each other about our nerves. The many who had to stay in the cells to fool our captive left it with justified disgust, but still took part in our celebration.
They deserved it after all, they played their role.
We cheered when Boris dragged the whimpering mess of a man by his leg, throwing him nonchalantly inside the cell.
We laughed, when we saw baldy fall face first into the shite.
For that one moment, we felt good. We were happy, safe and surrounded by people who understood us. Even if we were literally in the bowels of our enemy's territory, outnumbered three to one with no food or weapon. We were together, irreplaceable parts of a whole, and each of us belonged by right.
We were going to make it.
It remained unspoken, but it was a belief shared by all the Freedmen of The Fancy.
When some heads started turning to me, their eyes asking "What now?" I knew it was no longer time to relish in our victory. My men could, they deserved it and much more, but not me.
I had to use this victory.
-----------------
Author Note:
Hey guys, sorry for the wait. I found myself in a bit of a bind, being too exhausted to write anything but still having so many ideas I absolutely had to get them out somehow.
The end result was a refined story, more defined characters and a plot that'll last us a good while.
In this chapter, Arthur was introduced to a few more or less important characters. Spoiler: It's neither Ugly nor Baldy. He finally started using active skills, and consequently discovered what magic really is. The timing sucked, of course, but it was nothing too consequential. He was only really there to vanish Baldy's weapons, and stab him if something unexpected happened.
I doubt he'll be so lucky next time.
What's the purpose of Baldy's capture? just how much was magic understated in the series? How long can Boris stay without Vodka? Will Arthur and the boys stay victorious until the end?
You'll see all that and more in the upcoming chapters, stay tuned.
Goodbye!
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