It was quite clear by Ishaan's list of demands that he cared deeply about Cilma's shop, but nothing made it more obvious than his reaction to what Klaire had said. "Willow will appreciate it." She said, heart tight inside her chest while he took another look through the pages of the document she'd worked so hard on. The hours she'd devoted to it paid off, and Klaire couldn't help but smile widely as she watched him sign his name. "You won't regret it. And thank you mister- Ishaan. You're a lifesaver."
The captain stood up, offering a final handshake to seal the deal.
With a final handshake, the Captain was gone, leaving Ishaan with nothing but her parting words, running over and over in his mind. Tomorrow at ten, tomorrow at ten. His life would change; he knew that much, but precisely to what magnitude, well that would remain a mystery.
He didn't sleep much that night. No, there was simply too much to do. Packing took some time, though Ishaan wasn't overly concerned about trivial possessions such as clothes or toiletries. He threw in some essential books, his own cartography supplies, and a couple smaller personal belongings if space allowed. What was truly challenging was sitting down at his table in the dead of night, and writing letters to the friends he was leaving behind. Writing, don't worry about me, I'll be back in two months , and asking certain people to keep an eye on his home, on his plants, on the shop.
When that was all taken care of, he slept, or at least tried to. Racing thoughts kept him awake, and once he realized that he'd forgotten to ask Klair about what the mission was, where they were going, well, all hope for sleep was lost.
At the crack of dawn, he dragged himself out of bed, dressed in his finest, and left his home, sealing the door behind him. Two months and he'd be back. A changed man, but a rich man. He'd be back.
After distributing his letters, Ishaan walked to the shop and did the very same thing that he'd done at home. He stuffed various necessary supplies into the crevices of his bag, double and triple checked that everything was in order, and left a handwritten note plastered to the front door. Another note, addressed to Officer Willow, was left inside, outlining a couple (truly, just a couple) requests.
The sun was up now, shining bright, highlighting the nearly cloudless sky - a perfect day to set sail. As he drew closer to the harbour, the salty scent of the sea filled his senses, reminding him of his childhood. A small smile lifted the edges of his lips as he arrived, taking in the glorious ships that had anchored. Digging into the pocket on his waistcoat, the man pulled out his watch and checked the time. Good, he was early, and still had time for breakfast. The nearby bakery called his name, enticing him with the scent of warm bread and pastries, as well as the promise of hot coffee. He sure as hell needed it.
Klaire arrived early at the harbor. She was captain after all, and had to make sure everything was in order for the long journey ahead of the Dragonfly and her crew. The quartermaster and master gunner approached her with reports about the crew, the supplies and the fire power, and after checking everything one last time the ship was ready to set sail. The only thing missing was the navigator.
Her palms were sweaty, and as much as she didn’t like to admit it, Klaire was afraid. Afraid she’d fail or worse, get her entire crew killed. She made a promise to Ishaan, a promise she intended to keep, but as much as she tried to ignore the facts, the undeniable truth was that his safety wasn’t entirely up to her. Perhaps making such a promise had been a huge mistake.
“Captain!” A crewmate called, entering her office. “The vice admiral is here to see you.” She stood up immediately, watching as the officer stepped aside, making way for an older man to walk in.
His head was covered in hair unlike most men his age, but the gray on the sides as well as on his groomed beard denounced his experience. Dark green wings hung from his back, just as stiff as Klaire’s, one of them being bent in an unnatural way. Just like the scars on his face and hands, it was a testament to his years of service.
“Klaire.” He opened up a smile, and so did the girl, running to his arms.
“Uncle!” After a tight hug, the vice admiral placed a kiss on his niece’s forehead, holding her face in his hands.
“I’m so proud of you, captain.” There was a hint of sorrow in his voice, and after a moment of hesitation, he added: “Are you really sure about this?” Klaire pushed back.
“I’m not having this conversation again. Not now.” The captain said firmly, and with a sigh, he accepted defeat.
“Alright. Tell me, did you have breakfast yet?” He asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulder while they left the ship together.
Vice admiral Byrn walked on a limp to the bakery accompanied by his niece, no longer at close proximity with one another. Military officers were expected to present themselves a certain way, and public displays of affection, despite not being prohibited, were highly discouraged. She smiled when her eyes spotted a pair of familiar wings ahead, a smile her uncle very much noticed.
“A friend of yours?” He spoke quietly, to which Klaire rolled her eyes.
“He’s the reason why this expedition will be successful. You’ll see.”
Bread, rolls, and sweet pastries stuffed with fruit and jams lined the counter, immediately drawing Ishaan's undivided attention. As he stood in line, dark eyes browsing and shifting through the selection, the man found himself oddly undecided. The only definite was coffee. The rest... well, would sweet rolls and apricot jam be available over the next two months? Where were they going? Should he stock up? Gods, he sure wished he had asked Klaire last night.
In the end, he decided to be safe rather than sorry. So he bought half a dozen sweet rolls, which the baker's wife had neatly tucked into a handwoven basket (which he also had to pay for as there was no space in his bag, and he simply couldn't stuff them in his pockets). As he turned to exit the small bakery, his eyes landed on her, Klaire, looking as lovely as ever. Beside her, stood an imposing, and equally as stiff figure, his uniform decorated to the extreme. Ishaan offered them a smile as he approached, placing his bag on the ground, and shifting the basket to his forearm. With a now free hand, he first offered it to Klaire, and then the man beside her. "Good morning, Captain Byrn," he said with a slight nod, dark eyes twinkling down at her. "Did you sleep alright?"
"My apologies, my name is Ishaan Riasmos. Captain Byrn hired me, quite recently, as a navigator," he added, holding out his hand to the man.
The vice admiral raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything to his niece's comment about the poor young man with the rotten wings. He could no longer fly either, but he was an old rag, who'd put his wings to good use during his youth. It was a shame to see a fairy at that early stage of life who likely couldn't get his feet off the ground.
Klaire was no longer paying attention to her uncle, her eyes set on Ishaan. She attributed the skipped beat of her heart to the enthusiasm about their trip, it had nothing to do with the handshake.
"I did, yes." Her face burned with embarrassment over the memory of their previous night. Of course that was a lie, she'd slept no longer than a couple hours but he didn't need to know that.
"Vice Admiral Byrn." The man by Klaire's side said, taking Ishaan's hand and shaking it firmly. Klaire suddenly felt like a teenager again, having the men in her life try and intimidate any other who came close to her. "I wonder what your qualifications are? The fleet has plenty of competent navigators."
"None of the navigators graduated by the academy have as much knowledge of the night sky than Ish- Mr. Riasos has." Klaire said, jumping in his defense. "He's dedicated his entire life to study the stars, wrote dozens of maps and because of him we won't get lost in the desert."
Klaire wasn't sure if what she said was true - she knew it was the case for Mr. Cilma. She could do nothing but hope his apprentice was up to par but for some reason she couldn't pinpoint, she had faith in him.
A calloused hand met his much softer one, the handshake firm, bordering on painful. Ishaan gave away nothing, merely blinking and nodding his head in acknowledgement. "It's a pleasure Vice Admiral."
And so the interrogation began. Judging from the admiral's last name, he was her father, or at the very least, family. So it made sense; the grip, the suspicious look in his eye, the questioning. Ishaan didn't blame him, but he did find him slightly intimidating. As Klaire jumped in, defending his knowledge and her decision, Ishaan couldn't help as the corners of his lips turned upward, his dark eyes meeting hers, even for just a moment. He hoped he expressed the gratitude subtly.
Once she stopped, the man swallowed hard, and forced himself to meet the admiral's gaze, feigning confidence. "I assure you Vice Admiral Byrn, I will not let you, or your da- ehm, Captain Byrn down. I graduated top of my class and have spent most of my life learning under the best in Costa Duba. I will get her and the crew back home safely."
Back home, back from the desert. Hell, what could they be searching for in the most desolate places in their realm? Could it be...?
Just when the thought crossed her mind, Ishaan's eyes caught hers. He stood his ground telling the Vice Admiral - and Klaire as well, because she had no idea about any of this - all his qualifications for the job. The Vice admiral seemed satisfied with his answer, but Klaire wasn't happy about how both men spoke as if she was under his care, not the other way around.
"We're gonna grab a bite, the quartermaster can show you your cabin if you want to head to the ship already." Klaire said, not wanting to extend that conversation.
"Or you could join us." The vice admiral added, surprising his niece not only by the invitation, but by the raised corner of his lips. If this was another attempt at an interrogation, Klaire wasn't having it. "I'm sure he wants to get settled, Vice Admiral. We'll be leaving soon." The brunette tried to tug on her uncle's arm to pull him forward, but his feet didn't move. "Nonsense, Klaire! There's plenty of time, and you should let the boy speak for himself." The two Byrns stared at Ishaan, waiting for his answer. Klaire tried to apologize through her eyes, hoping he'd get both of them out of this uncomfortable situation.
His eyes shifted between the two as they exchanged words; polite words, but not without their hidden meanings. There was a second conversation occurring, one being conveyed through body language and purposeful glances, and more importantly, one that Ishaan wasn't privy to. Yet, he found himself in the middle of this tug-of-war, unsure of how to proceed. Stuck between the Captain - his Captain - and the Vice Admiral.
The fae shifted his weight and chuckled lightly beneath his breath as two pairs of eyes stared at him expectantly. "I'd love to join you two. I actually bought some pastries-", he lifted the basket slightly, "- I wouldn't mind some company finishing them off. I hope you don't mind apricot." Ishaan paused, looking between the two. "I'll, erm, wait for you outside. Excuse me." He assumed they'd like to purchase their own drinks or breads for the cast off, or even for the next couple of days. That had been his intention with his own purchase, but hell, this seemed like an appropriate opportunity to share the wealth and garner some positive favour. With a slight nod of his head, Ishaan reached for his bag and passed by the pair, murmuring apologies as he maneuvered his way past those lined up behind them.
Klaire tried to get him a way out but he wouldn't take it. Why didn't he take it?
"Seems like a good kid." The vice admiral said after Ishaan left. "How long have you known him?"Less than 24h wasn't a good answer, so Klaire chose to work her way around it.
"I've been studying his work for a while." It was a blatant lie, but so long as she spoke as if Mr. Cilma and Ishaan were the same person, there'd be enough truth to it not to raise any suspicion. They stood in line quietly for a moment, and Klaire wished things had stayed that way. "You're not… That's only a work thing, right?" The vice admiral asked, causing Klaire's eyes to widen.
"Of course it's just a work thing! What kind of captain do you think I am?!" Despite being shocked by the insinuation, Klaire tried to keep her voice low so as to not get anyone at the bakery interested in their conversation.
"I was just making sure, because it's not a good idea-" "Of course it's not a good idea! Can you please just-" She breathed in. "Don't say anything. Quiet."
And he obeyed. Klaire and her uncle walked up to the table outside where Ishaan waited for them, carrying their own pastries and drinks.
"Sorry, the line was long." Klaire said when they arrived, trying to hide her discomfort. Vice Admiral Byrn on the other hand seemed to have loosen up after the answer he got from his niece. Perhaps he wouldn't have to worry about Ishaan.
"I just realized there might have been some confusion. Captain Byrn is my niece, people assume I'm her father all the time." He explained with a smile. "Her father's Admiral Byrn, my brother. You're lucky you didn't run into him!"
Seated outside in the crisp morning air, a fresh mug of hot liquid in his hand, the smell of salt, bread, and spring overwhelming his senses... so why did dread and regret pool in his stomach? Did this feeling stem from the impending danger he'd agreed to participate in for two long months, or the fact that he'd agreed to have breakfast with Klaire and her Vice Admiral father? As the pair approached, his stomach lurched, causing the man to take a slow sip of the steaming coffee. Seemed like the cause for his nerves, at least this very second, was the latter. Remember. Gaining positive favour. He forced a smile onto his face and looked up at the two Byrns.
The two Byrns, who were in fact, not father and daughter. "Oh, and why's that?" Ishaan took the bait willingly at this point - he hardly knew them, especially the Vice Admiral, and wasn't willing to push the boundaries with clever wit.
“Let’s just say he’s not as… Friendly as I am.” Klaire’s uncle answered, and she couldn’t help but agree with him. Hopefully the discussion about her family would end there. “Now tell me more about yourself. Mr. Risos, isn’t it? Have you ever traveled on a flying ship before?” He asked.
“It’s Mr. Riasos, but he prefers to be called by his first name. Ishaan.” Klaire cut in, before taking a bite of her croissant. Eating was a good idea. With her mouth full she wouldn’t have to be much of a part of that conversation that would probably consist of the vice admiral casually extracting information from her navigator. Information she herself didn’t know about, but was curious to find out.
Ishaan peaked over at Klaire, wondering what her own opinion was regarding her father's lack of friendliness. Of course, she gave him nothing he hadn't seen before; the same stiffness remained, though whether that was due to discomfort or duty, he couldn't say. He took another sip and looked back at her uncle, who had posed another question. Personal or professional - it could go either way, likely depending on how the man answered. And if he answered truthfully, the conversation would delve into his past, personal affairs. Best to keep his answer brief and broad then.
"Many years ago now. I don't remember much, but I'm sure it hardly compared to the ship we'll be boarding soon enough. Will you be joining us, Vice Admiral?"
"Heavens, no." The vice admiral answered, perhaps too quickly. Klaire had already finished her croissant and her coffee she could drink on her way.
"I really want to take you on a tour of the ship before we set sail, show you the equipment. You'll see it's the best in the market, just like you asked." She told Ishaan, standing up from her seat. "Thank you for the visit, Vice Admiral, but we really must get going." The man let out a sigh.
"If you want to get rid of me so bad…" a tiny smirk on his lips made it clear he wasn't that upset, but there was a look in his eyes. He looked at his niece as if trying to imprint in his memory every inch of her face, making sure it wouldn't be forgotten. "Take care of yourself." He said, before looking at Ishaan. "Take care of each other. It was a pleasure to meet you, Ishaan. I hope we get to do this again."
Klaire didn't want to do this, especially not in front of her new employee. She hugged her uncle regardless, whispering in his ear.
"I will come back, I promise. Just like you and father did."
It was a quick hug, and not a single tear was dropped in their departure. As she walked away from her uncle, Klaire smiled a last goodbye and waited for Ishaan to walk with her to the Dragonfly.
With a final handshake and polite smile, the pair departed, leaving the friendly brother behind. For a minute or two, they walked in silence down the cobblestone street, Ishaan favouring the left side, where the sea harboured dozens upon dozens of anchored ships, big and small. Finally, he spoke, unable to contain himself any further. "Byrn, where are we going?"
They hadn't even made it to the ship yet when Ishaan asked about their destination. Of course he was curious, Klaire couldn't blame him for it and was actually surprised they'd come this far without him demanding some answers. She wished he could have held it back just a little while longer.
Ishaan would've caught the hesitation, for Klaire wasn't the best at hiding her emotions. She knew she had to tell him the truth, but the way she would choose to tell it was just as important as the information itself, and finding the words that wouldn't make him run away was no easy feat. "First, we'll make a stop at Brimstone. It should take us around three days to get there, if the weather is favorable." She talked while they walked, her eyes locked on the Dragonfly that was now just ahead of them. "The empire has control over that region, it's the safest route for us to fly through the mountains and get to the desert." The desert. It was beyond their control and was known for being no man's land. There were rumors about a city in the heart of the desert, where the outlaws and rebels held control with no juristiction. A pirate city, so to speak. Klaire and Ishaan had arrived at the plank that connected the docks to the ship that was supposed to house them for the next couple months. "Have you ever heard of Armadilla?"