Chapter Text
The beach was met with an eerie silence as the guardian let out a quiet death rattle before toppling over, landing on the sand with a dull thud, the tentacles that surrounded its mouth writhing for a few moments after the impact before finally falling limp. For much too long, Vasco simply stood there, frozen in place for a brief moment before keeling over, resting his hands on his knees and gasping desperately for air. Beside him, Adélard buckled, all but collapsing onto the sand in a heap, his rapier sliding out of his slackened grip. Both of them remained there, held in place by exhaustion and shock as the minutes crawled by.
Vasco stared aimlessly at the sand, chest heaving, sucking down air with a desperation that surprised him. His heart pounded in his chest – seemingly more from the fear of seeing the creature when it first trudged out of the darkness than actual exertion. He would never get used to these things. To think that each and every one of them had once been human…
A shiver travelled up his spine before he could stop it. These people had completely given themselves over, allowed the island to twist them into something inhuman and monstrous, taking them and changing everything about them until they were unrecognisable. A total loss of identity, beyond their control. The natives might call it an honour, a worthy trade for the power they received, but he couldn’t think of a worse fate.
Why the continental nations were interested in such a thing, Vasco couldn’t say. Only that their damned curiosity had cost the Nauts a ship, and many of his brothers and sisters their lives.
He glanced uneasily at the rest of the beach; carefully scanning the broken, shattered remains of the Oriflamme’s upturned hull. Everything about this place made him feel sick, from the corpses washed up on the shore to the wreckage itself, though perhaps worst of all was the pungent, overpowering smell of salt and decaying flesh. He should ask them to send people back here, when they were done. The bodies needed to be collected, their remains given proper rites, the proper respect. He didn’t recognise any of the pale, swollen corpses strewn across the beach, but could feel grief gnawing away at him all the same. He might’ve met some of them, however briefly. He might’ve had a drink with them once. Even if he hadn’t…the Nauts were his family. He couldn’t stand to see family like this, murdered and their ship destroyed by a monster for the sake of people who would never understand or even care about the real human cost.
And what if it had been people he’d known? What if the Sea Horse had ended up like this, while he was grounded on the island? What if he’d come here to see his own ship, his whole life, upturned like this? If the pallid, drowned faces he found himself staring at were those of Flavia, Lauro, Jonas, or anyone else who’d been under his command?
He’d come so close to losing it all. He had to make sure that wouldn’t happen again. Hopefully, after today, he’d have it all back, along with a newfound appreciation for the life he had. Cabral would finally trust him again and he could sail away from here, as far away from here as possible. In that moment, there was nothing he wanted more.
Behind him, he heard Adélard grunt as he staggered back to his feet.
“It’s strangely melancholic.”
Vasco stopped, turning on his heels to face his companion, eyebrows raised incredulously. “What? What is?”
Adélard didn’t meet his gaze, too busy staring intently at the Oriflamme. “Seeing one of your ships on its side like this.”
“Yeah,” Vasco breathed, taking a few faltering steps forwards as he too, glanced up at the wreck. “Funny thing is, when you’re climbing the rigging, crashing through the waves, you forget how fragile they can be. On the sea, I always felt so bloody invincible.”
He couldn’t wait to get that feeling again.
“You miss it.”
It wasn’t a question.
Vasco rolled his shoulders back. “I miss a lot of things. Hopefully now, I won’t miss them for much longer.”
And finally, he wouldn’t have to deal with this island and the people on it anymore. He could finally put all the scheming and the politics behind him and pretend he lived in a world free of conflict and strife, where nothing mattered beyond his ship.
Adélard’s lips twitched with the slightest hint of a smirk as he glanced down, wiping away a trickle of blood that came from a small cut over his cheekbone. “It sounds liberating, honestly. Part of me wishes I could join you.”
His tone was quiet and wistful, like it was a distant dream that had long since slipped from his grasp. Vasco’s brow furrowed at that – at the defeatism in his words, the subtle implication that he didn’t have a choice, or at least didn’t feel as though he did. For someone who routinely made decisions that deeply affected the lives of those around him, he seemed completely incapable of doing the same with his own.
“So why don’t you?”
Adélard whirled around the instant the question left Vasco’s lips, eyes wide with surprise and utter confusion, staring at him like he was completely insane.
“I-” he began, his voice faltering and almost immediately dying in his throat. “…I’m sorry?”
Vasco didn’t move. “Join the Nauts.”
For much too long, the two of them stood there, as Adélard stared at him in pure shock, and Vasco just stood there, watching him back, remaining adamantly in place. It didn’t seem that shocking of an idea to him – though he had, admittedly, been mulling it over for what might’ve been a few weeks now. Now, it seemed to Vasco like the natural conclusion to make, though the way Adélard stared clearly indicated that it had never once crossed his mind in that time.
“Me?” Adélard managed to choke out after what felt like forever, letting out a quiet, somewhat strangled chuckle that seemed born of stress and hysteria more than anything else. “You can’t be serious.”
Vasco’s brow creased. “You’re sea-born. Why not?”
“I’m hardly a sailor, Vasco. I- I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“You’re sea-born,” he reminded him firmly. “You’re sailor enough. And it isn’t like no one would teach you.”
A brief silence fell between them as Adélard failed to answer in any meaningful way. Too shocked by the question being posed at all, Vasco guessed. Had he really never once considered it, even after all this time? Was it really that absurd an idea to him? All his talk of wanting to escape, to get away from the life he was trapped in, all his clear discomfort with the hand fate had dealt him, and he’d never once even considered running away from it all? Of finding a new life for himself?
That kind of loyalty was rare. Admirable, really. It was just a shame it was wasted on people who would only abuse it.
“I’m honoured you’d ask, Vasco,” Adélard began, his voice jerky and faltering almost immediately as he struggled to think of what to say. “I really am. But that- …that isn’t me.”
Vasco blinked in surprise – having not expected that answer, and now entirely unsure what to do with it.
“Isn’t you?” he repeated incredulously, the words leaving him before he could do anything to stop himself. “After everything that’s happened – everything you’ve found out about yourself, all the lies you were told – do you have any idea who you actually are?”
Adélard flinched back at that, almost as if Vasco had burned him with the question. He simply stared, lips parting slightly as if to say something, only to say nothing at all.
“Do you really want to spend the rest of your life mired in politics like this?” Vasco pressed quietly when Adélard failed to say anything.
He kept his head down. “Mired in politics or not, it’s my life, Vasco. I can’t just up and leave it.”
Vasco sighed and glanced away. He wasn’t going to change his mind. And at this point, it was unreasonable to continue to try.
“Okay,” he murmured, not meeting his gaze. “But you know, if you ever change your mind… let me know. I’ll keep a position open for you.”
The corners of Adélard’s lips twitched with the barest hint of a smile.
“Thanks, Vasco.”