Yuel and Nazyr were already in the kitchen when Rylan crept in.

Yuel, who was sitting on the counter, swinging his legs, let out a gasp as he grabbed Nazyr's shoulder, bringing his other hand to his chest. "Look at our little boy, Naz, all ready to leave the nest... Oh, they grow up so fast!"

Rylan rolled his eyes, ignoring Nazyr's laughter. "You know that's not sanitary, right? Sitting on the surface where we prepare our food."

"Remember how sweet he used ta be, Yuel?" Nazyr said, shaking his head, still grinning widely. "Now, he's giving us lip. Tragic."

"You guys are hilarious," Rylan deadpanned, though a pang of sorrow went through him at the thought of saying goodbye to his favourite former pirates. "Actually, what are the two of you planning to do while the ship is moored? You're not going to Thornholm, are you?"

"Ugh, no," Yuel huffed out. "That place is a snoozefest. We're going to do what we always do when we get our wages: live it up like there's no tomorrow!"

Nazyr shifted uncomfortably. "Right. Yeah."

Yuel noticed immediately, his face falling. "What's the matter, boo? You love to party, don't you?"

"Sure," Nazyr said with a shrug. "I just..." He trailed off, muttering indistinctly.

Yuel narrowed his eyes, studying Nazyr's face, then he relaxed. "Ah... you're worried I'm going to run off with some handsome fella with a ripped bod, is that it?"

Nazyr's eye flicked down towards his paunch, then back up to Yuel. "Course not," he scoffed. "I ain't that insecure."

Yuel did not look convinced, and frankly, neither was Rylan.

"Ehm, should I leave for a bit?" he asked awkwardly.

Yuel glanced at him. "Why don't you go ahead and hide in the pantry, milord," he suggested, mirth in his eyes. "We'll join you in a moment."

Rylan fled the room in a hurry, trading awkwardness for shelves stacked full of leftover lengths of bamboo containing braised boar meat. Actually, he might as well bring some of those, he decided, lest they go to waste. He and Ezra had really made a lot.

[Don't worry, Boss, they're just talking,] Arphin said as Rylan carefully stuffed some of the sealed lengths of bamboo into his backpack. [Would you like to know what they're saying? I'm close enough to make it out from here!]

'I really don't want to know, Arphin,' Rylan replied, struggling to get the bedroll strapped back on top with how full his backpack was. 'Privacy, remember?'

[Right right right... just one question, Boss: what is a 'threesome'?]

'Arphin!'

[Oops, sorry!]

Shaking his head exasperatedly, Rylan settled in to wait.

True to his word, Yuel entered with Nazyr not much later, but that didn't mean the wait was over. The ship still had to kite into port.

Rylan was a little bummed that he couldn't take it all in from the top deck, as he'd love to watch what he imagined would be a multitude of ships in all sizes, moving in and out of bustling docks full of people in brightly coloured dress.

Instead, he was stuck in a little room with two overly amorous pirates. The things he put up with for his freedom...

Rather than watch two grown men whisper and giggle, he kept an eye on the two spots of green light he could vaguely see through the ceiling when he squinted. Soren was still keeping Tamina at bay. Good.

It seemed like Tamina could subvert her orders to some degree, but there was no way to know if she'd be able to last all the way to port. If she started looking for Rylan early...

[Oh? Ooh, Boss, there's something in front of us, I think we're approaching the docks!]

Rylan straightened up and turned to Yuel. "Ehm, actually, how will we know when it's time to leave the ship?"

"Easy," Yuel said with a shrug. "The captain will start shouting for us to come up and help."

As if on cue, Rylan heard Captain Hammermore shouting from the deck. "Oy! Yuel, Naz, Ezra, get your lazy butts up here!"

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Don't worry," Yuel said with a wink as he sprang up lightly. "We've left a note. She'll understand."

"More like we're gonna be swabbing the new deck for weeks," Nazyr muttered, but he got up as well and moved over to a cupboard at the back of the cramped pantry.

Rylan recognised it as the one with the jammed door.

Nazyr reached down and fiddled around with something at the bottom of the door that wouldn't open. Then, as he straightened back up, the front of the cupboard came up with him, swinging back until it was flat against the wall, revealing that there had never been anything inside to begin with, not even shelves.

Instead, there was something beneath it, a square contraption with a coil of rope attached to the top.

"There ye go, our smuggler's hatch," Nazyr said smugly.

"I told you he was good with his hands," Yuel leaned in to whisper.

[I don't get it,] Arphin sent. [I thought it was supposed to be hidden?]

'Eyes, Arphin,' Rylan reminded him.

[Oh right, duh! Those silly things...]

"So, are ye ready to go?" Nazyr asked, crouching down to grab a lever next to the hatch, his good eye darting up to watch Rylan expectantly.

Rylan hesitantly picked up his backpack. "Ehm, I guess so, but... shouldn't we wait for the ship to come to a halt?"

Nazyr grinned. "Now where'd be the fun in that?"

He pulled the lever, and the hatch swung down. The coil of rope unfurled, one end disappearing into the fog below.

Nazyr wasted no time, grabbing onto the rope and leaping down. Shooting Rylan a wink, Yuel followed suit rather more gracefully, spiralling down the rope like he was performing a routine.

Rylan gaped after them. He'd thought they would try to sneak him onto the docks somewhere out of sight, and maybe lead him to a side entrance to some fogtubes or something, but... He shook his head. Like Soren had said, they were the experts. He'd just have to trust them.

Lowering his backpack in front of him, he grabbed onto the rope with his other hand, and hopped down.

The fog rushed past him as he let himself slip down the rope, moving rather more quickly than was perhaps wise as he didn't want to get separated from the dark figures below him.

[Boss, they're stopping,] Arphin warned.

Rylan tightened his grip, flashes of white coming from his palm as his Mana Shell protected him from a nasty rope burn while he slowed down and finally came to a stop above Yuel and Nazyr.

They'd reached the end of the rope.

"Now what?" Rylan whispered as he locked his feet in place and swung his backpack over his shoulder one-handed.

"Patience, milord, patience!" Yuel replied rather more loudly. "You'll see soon enough!"

[Ehm, Boss, I thought you said humans lived above the fog?] Arphin asked hesitantly.

'Yes?' Rylan sent back. 'Why do you...' He trailed off as below them, structures started to become visible on the upward-sloping ground they were passing over.

As they continued to approach the port, Rylan decided that calling the ramshackle huts 'structures' was rather generous. Most of them appeared to be little more than stretches of woven kelp supported by a framework of flimsy bamboo rods, perhaps capable of holding in some warmth and providing an illusion of privacy, but little else.

Patches of dirt behind them grew mushrooms, and some had precariously supported bamboo structures on their roofs hosting a tangle of mistweed.

There were people moving between the shacks as well. Kids playing in the sand with shells and rocks. Gaunt-faced men and women heading home for dinner. As they got closer, some of them looked up.

None of them were Quinthar, at least, so Rylan wasn't too worried about attracting potentially unsavoury attention, but the sheer number of huts and people he spotted still set his heart palpitating.

"What is all this?" Rylan demanded in a low voice. "Why are there so many people living here? This is... it's outside the city walls!"

"Simple," Nazyr grunted. "They got nowhere else to go."

Yuel glanced up at Rylan with a rueful smile. "Not everyone can afford to live in the city, milord. Living on its outskirts is still better than nothing; the patrols and all of the activity keeps the worst things at bay."

"But... there must be so many ships passing right over them," Rylan said, aghast. "What if something falls overboard?"

"Then whoever finds it has first dibs," Yuel said simply. "It's the way of the world, milord. Anyway, I think it's about time we hopped off."

The roofs of the huts below were indeed getting rather close, and the ship was apparently still moving at quite a clip, judging by how fast they were passing by.

"Ehm... and where are we doing that?" Rylan asked.

"Just try not to hit anything too fragile!" Yuel replied cheerfully.

"Aaand hup!" Nazyr said before letting go, stumbling upon his landing in an alley below.

Yuel immediately slid down further, before lowering himself to hang from his feet for some reason. Only after waving saucily at Rylan did he let go, flipping through the air and landing gracefully on his feet.

Cursing, Rylan lowered himself as well, then quickly regretted it as he had to pull himself up again a little to pass over the mistweed grower on someone's roof.

Spotting a little garden behind it, he quickly let go. However, he'd misjudged the angle of his descent and the mass of his backpack, and ended up stumbling and crashing into the fencing.

"Wha's all this?" a voice called out from the adjacent hut before a ruddy-faced man with a big moustache came ducking out. "Oy, lad! What are you up to in my fogging garden?!"

"Nothing!" Rylan said hurriedly. "I just... landed here, by accident."

The man squinted at him, then up, then back at Rylan. Then his eyes widened. "My fence!"

Suddenly, Yuel was there, jumping into the garden to grab Rylan's upper arm and drag him along. "Terribly sorry, sir," the blond pirate said in passing. "He's new at this. Won't happen again—have a nice day now!"

Rylan stumbled along, out into what could generously be called an alley, where Nazyr caught up to them with a big grin. The moustachioed man shouted something unintelligible after them, prompting Rylan to glance back.

"Just keep moving," Yuel advised, though he let go of Rylan's arm. "That man is too drunk to walk straight, let alone cause us any trouble."

"I did crash into his fence though..." Rylan said, slowing down a little, though he didn't stop.

Nazyr snorted. "Didn't look like much anyway. I think you improved it."

Yuel sighed. "You're too sweet, milord. If he'd known you were a Quinthar, he'd have been prostrating himself, telling you his fence did look better this way, and to never mind his poor little self."

"Seriously?" Rylan asked.

"Well, maybe not," Yuel conceded as they came upon a crossroads. "As I said, he did appear rather drunk. It would've been the smart thing to do, however. Not all the Quinthar living in this city are as nice as you, you know? Now, let's see, where do we go from here?"

"It's that way," Nazyr said confidently, pointing to the right.

"Where exactly are you taking me?"

"To see an old friend," Yuel replied with a mischievous smile.

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