Chapter Seven - Stranger Than Two Strangers

Gai flipped through the pages after that entry. “Aw, a’way!

What happened after?” He slammed the log closed and paced with it in his hands. He walked deeper into the

ship’s dark cargo hold, talking to himself, “Pa was sick like Ma said. And it sounds like the spryts made his breakin’ tricks even worse. Same thing happened when Lynd touched one—What’s this?” A splash of dust fell on his head from the ceiling. He sneezed and looked up to see why it was suddenly raining dirt on him. After cleaning a layer off his shoulder, Gai then saw the rain of dust moving down the ship. Someone was quietly walking on the deck above, disturbing the ceiling soot.

“I thought all the Wikets left?” he said, following the fresh plumes of falling dust out deeper into the hull. He was not alone; that much was clear. A short staircase led to the top deck. Every step up, he felt his stomach quake with an all too familiar fear. Bump bump. The same fear he had the night Lynd came crying through the door the night his father left — What was going to come through this time? The next step, he wondered if he even wanted to know. He set his hands on the oval door that led to the Lady Merry’s top deck. Bump bump. “. . . Pa?”

But then a woman’s voice came through, quiet and flat, saying, “You took care of the thieves, then?”

Shaking, Gai put his ear to the door.

“Of course,” a gruff man’s voice answered. “I used the myracle you taught me — Ruin Memory.”

“Good,” she said. “Best if no one knows we were here.” Gai pressed his ear harder on the door.

The unknown woman continued, “You did create a memory to replace the ones you destroyed, correct? Elix Memory?”

“Ruin? Elix?” the boy whispered, pressing his ear even harder to the point of pinching. He didn’t want to miss a single word. “What did they do to ‘em?”

“Destroy this. Create that.” The man huffed. “You know how rare it is that someone can direct their myra in both directions like that?”

“You’re the only one I know who can,” she said. “But if you create false memories in their minds, it would lower the chance they’ll detect something out of place. I just thought you’d want to do this right.”

“Maybe next time,” he answered coldly. “I haven’t eaten all day.” “Are these even people?” Gai broke from the door to see if there was a crack somewhere he could peak through. “Balls at ya,” he whispered, unable to find one. He then recalled the Wicked Wikets seeming confused and not even remembering the deal he made with them. Could that be what these two were talking about? A Ruin Memory? He pressed his left ear against the door this time. The other one was throbbing.

After more shuffling footsteps, Gai heard the man ask, “You’re sure the First Void was on this ship?”

“The very one we’re looking for,” the woman said. “Yes.” “Terrible parking job,” said the man. “Though if there truly was

a Void aboard, the crew was probably busy running for their lives.” “They may have escaped,” she said. “But it’s far more likely they were turned into Voids as well.”

“By Zeea,” Gai whispered to himself. “Maybe they’re not people.” “More Voids are coming?” The man exhaled as he stepped.

“There aren’t enough Heartbrands to take on an army of Voids.” “One Void would be too much for your entire Legion,” the woman chuckled. “You know the legend as well as anyone. And the First has already been alive too long. If I can’t find it soon, we’ll have no choice but to take Electri’s red myracite . . .”

Gai’s eyes widened. He switched ears again to see if he could hear better. Without warning, the door burst open. Wacck! Gai tumbled down the stairs, smacking right into some barrels full of soil and fish bait.

“Oh!” said the man, rushing down the stairs after him.

The woman called down to him from the deck, “Did you find something?”

“Crew’s not all Voids!” he yelled up the stairs to her. He then knelt down near the boy and picked up Baald’s log, which had landed beside him. He offered Gai the book back, stressing, “I’m so sorry.”

Gai’s head throbbed. Then he felt a worm wiggle on his dirt- covered face. “Ah!” He stood up, shaking his hair. Some of the dirt got on the stranger. “Ugh. Sorry at ya, too,” said the boy, taking back the log.

“Not a drop of trouble, young man,” he said, dusting off a blue cape draping off his shoulders, revealing a polished armor underneath.

Gai nearly froze in the man’s presence. Even kneeling, he was almost Gai’s full height. His imposing physique was hugged by the most reflective gold metal. Everything about him seemed so clean. It was common for Hoppers to have dirt on their cheeks or oily hair sticking to their scalps. Where did this guy come from? He had a splash of dark hair on his chin, a curly head to match, and a pair of penetrating brown eyes dotting his handsome, deep-toned face.

“You survived the crash?” the man said. “The ship’s crash, I mean. Not the door in the face I just gave you.” He smiled warmly.

“I–ugh.”

The woman’s dark, hooded silhouette appeared in the doorway up the stairs. She had a cape as well, flapping in the breeze. Red, flickering spryts dotted the sky behind her like stars. “General XIII?” she said, her voice cold and dry. “Do you need some assistance?”

“No, it’s alright.” He waved to her casually. He looked back at Gai, “You’re a crew member of this ship? Or are you with that thief band? I thought I got all of them . . .”

“Got all of them,” Gai whispered. “Ya did use some kind of breakin’ trick!”

“Looks like a local,” the woman said before walking out of sight. “Deal with it and get back to searching. We don’t have the luxury of time.”

“You live in this mesh of floating wood, then?” The man brushed off more dirt from Gai’s clothes for good measure. “What’s your name?”

“My-my,” Gai replied, unable to stop thinking about what happened to Juuse and his Wikets — Ruin Memory — and if he was next to have his memory Ruin-ed, whatever that meant.

“Great name. It’s lovely to meet you, My-my.” The man extended his big, open palm again. “You can call me XIII.” And bowed his head. “That’s general of the XIIIth Heartbrand Legion.”

The general seemed to radiate a presence that was unlike anyone Gai had ever met in Hop, calm but absolutely sure of himself. Apparently, he could destroy people’s memories, so that would make anyone feel confident. But how do you talk to someone like that?

“No, no, my name’s Gaiel. Gaiel Izz,” he said, staring at the worm on the floor. “Nice to meet ya, too.”

“Gaiel, then! Strong name,” the man exclaimed cheerfully. “So, were you with the crew of this ship or no?”

“No.” Gai held the book behind his back. “I just came to loot.” The woman’s voice traveled down from the top decks.

“General?”

XIII ignored her, pursing his lips. “Another thief, then? Town’s full of you guys, huh? Can’t say I blame anyone. Seems like a rough place.” He glared intensely into the boy’s eyes. “Would that be the ship’s log behind you?”

“How did ya know?” Gai finally gained the nerve to move, and it was to take a few steps back. “W-What did ya do to the Wikets?”

“I’m sorry, the who’s-its?”

“The thieves. The one’s ya did the Ruin Memory to?”

“Ruin Mem—” The general’s casual cool finally broke. “What did you hear? How long were you listening at that door?”

“General XIII!” the woman roared, coming to the doorway up the stairs again. “If you’re done making friends, can we get back to saving Esa?”

“Uh,” the general gestured to the boy. “I missed one.”

“Do you need me to go over how to properly destroy a memory again?” she scolded. “Finish it and get up here!”

“But he’s just another kid,” the man whined.

The hooded woman scoffed, “Do what you want,” and stomped back across the upper deck. “I just hope you didn’t say anything revealing in front of him.”

“Nope. He, uh, doesn’t know anything.” The general turned to the curious boy, raising his hands like he was praying, “Please, Gaiel. Forget about the memories.” He chuckled. “Ha, ‘forget about the memories.’ Ahem. I don’t use Ruin myracles any more than I abso‐ lutely must. My body can’t take it much anymore. So, you go ahead and forget this, and I won’t have to destroy your memory of it. Deal?”

“Sure.” Gai shrugged. “If ya tell me what myracles are.”

“Oh, you’d like an impromptu midnight lesson on a shipwreck, would you?”

Gai paused, then nodded.

“Does this look like an Akademy classroom to you? Do you see the majestic white Archbridges of Carpè anywhere near here? No.”

“Ya are from Carpè! Yer the group Unc was talkin’ about!” Gai said, waving the log. “Myracles must be tricks, then, yeah? I think I did one to my door. Maybe an ‘Elix’ one? My sister destroys stuff — that must be what Ruin is?”

“Alright, kid. I tried. I’m sorry to have to do this.” The general lifted his hand. “These deeds will all be worth it someday. She tells me.” All the veins in his hand darkened and pulsed. He clenched his teeth like he was in pain, and — Tck! — he snapped his fingers with a red spark. Gai’s eyes instantly shut, and he dropped to the floor as if he’d suddenly fallen asleep. “Oh? I must’ve leaned a little too hard into that one,” he said, shaking his hand like it had gone numb. “Apologies for it all, young man. Not that you’ll remember a thing about this week.”

As XIII took the first step upstairs, the boy started to groan and roll onto his belly. It was typical behavior of someone who just had their last few days erased. By the time the man was at the top of the stairs, Gai had made it back to his feet. That was not so typical.

“Pieces,” Gai muttered. “Black. Veins.” The general looked down the stairs.

“They had black veins. Everything’s in pieces.” Gai’s mind was thoroughly scrabbled. Thoughts, ideas, faces, memories all flashed in his head like pieces of a puzzle. He struggled to put them back together. “Fix . . . Unc wrote . . . Ya have ’em, too.”

“XIII!” The woman cried from up on the deck. “I found some‐ thing, hurry!”

He stared down the dark stairs at the boy. “So have I . . .” “Quick, come have a look at this!” she yelled.

“Commandress,” said the general, approaching the woman on deck. “That kid is putting his memories back together after I destroyed them. Have you ever seen that?”

She didn’t look at him. Her large, assessing eyes, deep in the shadow of a hood, were fixed on the destruction of the Merry’s deck. “There’s Ruin still radiating off it,” she said.

“By the Old World,” XIII mumbled. He bent down and touched the dark mark, quickly withdrawing his hand as if it burned him. “There’s myra radiating off it . . . The wood’s still disintegrating, slowly. You think this is where it ended?”

“I think this is where it began,” she said. “And look here.” The Commandress picked up a broken piece of curved wood. A nice piece of wood, with fishing wire melted on it. “This has Ruin all over it as well.”

“‘Ey!” yelled Gai from the doorway to the deck. That piece of wood in the woman’s hand was the fiddle he made Lynd, he was sure. “That’s my sister’s. Give it back!”

XIII slapped his forehead. “Oh, right. Him.”

“Give it back!” Gai ran toward them faster than they expected. He snatched the broken fiddle back from her and ran near the rails.

“Excuse me,” the man said. “Don’t be rude.” He gestured to his companion. “This is the legitimate Commandress of Carpè! Hand that over!”

“He appears to be attached to that Ruin-covered object,” she said. After XIII nodded, she turned to Gai, “That thing is contami‐ nated, little boy. For your safety, please hand it over.”

“No!” yelled Gai, holding the scorched fiddle.

“I’m warning you.” The woman seemed intrigued by why this youngster happened to be on the same ship as the First Void. “It could . . . taint you.”

“I-I can’t believe Lynd was here,” Gai whispered to himself, looking over the wrecked fiddle. “Did she meet Pa?” He looked over at the Lady Merry’s wrecked deck boards.

XIII leaned in again. “I created a Mind Link earlier. He’s looking for his father and sister on this ship . . . And he also shrugged off my myracle like loose dirt. Do you find those two facts interesting?”

“I do.” The Commandress sighed. “Did your Link come up with any family names?”

“Yes, Izz.”

“It is what?” she said. “No, it is Izz.”

“XIII, I don’t have time for—” “My name is Gaiel Izz!”

The general unrolled a sheet of paper from a pocket in his cape and wrote the name down. I-Z-Z.

“Ah,” she said. “Grab a sample of that black soot, too. If we can measure the rate it’s decaying, maybe we can tell how much time we have before the First Void becomes . . . too much.”

“Consider it bottled.” XIII bent down, took out a thin tube, and scraped some of the charred marks into it. “Ahem. He’s still holding a key piece of evidence.”

“He resisted Ruin Memory, did he?” The woman whipped her cape back, away from her arms. A full-length gown covered every‐ thing but her chin up.

“Correct.” The general nodded. “And it wasn’t particularly easy to probe his mind, either.”

“And these red lights,” she looked up. “That’s myracite, isn’t it?” “Yeah, funny how we’re practically at war over this stuff, and

here it’s floating around for free. The crude way Electri mines it must make for a few leaks.” XIII carefully scraped some more charred wood into a bottle. “What are you proposing?”

“That the First Void is out there, growing,” she said. “And if I waste another second here, planet Esa is doomed.”

The general stood up. “Are you sure it’s wise for you to touch red myracite? You know, Ruin and Ruin . . .”

“I wasn’t asking,” she said. Her eyes flickered ruby red. Gai yelled, “What’re ya doin’?”

“Very well . . . my Commandress.” The general raised his hand and curled his finger at the spryt — or myracite — and it started to slowly lower from the sky. “Just don’t rip a hole in time this time, thanks.”

“Stop!” Gai cried. The red hues. The lowering spryt. It all reminded him so clearly of the night on Lynd’s Pier.

The man winced and hid his face with his hood. “I’ll have to destroy the whole town’s memories after this. Sorry again, young man!”

Gai tucked into a ball with the fiddle. “No!”

As soon as the spryt landed in the Commandress’ hand, the red glow engulfed her whole body like it was on fire. As he stared, wide- eyed at the mystical display on the deck of the Lady Merry, he knew Lynd must have done some kind of myracle, too, when she disap‐ peared that night.

The Commandress raised her hand to Gai with such fury in her eyes, he almost wet his newspaper pants. The entire ship seemed to be trembling. Screams came from the Boards below as onlookers gathered, fearing another storm or some other disaster.

Before he could scream, a tremendous force felt like it grabbed his back. The space behind him cracked open. It pulled him so hard and fast, all his joints popped. The fiddle pieces dropped to the deck.

Gai pushed forward against the tear in space with all his might, feeling like there were hooks in his arm yanking him back. As he struggled, a faint blue glow emerged around his body. His blue fixin’ trick.

At once, his own creative power started to faithfully sow that hole in space back up. It was like the antidote to the destruction that threatened to swallow him whole. Gurgle grr.

“Not interesting enough, I’m afraid.” The Commandress sighed. “Huh?” His whole body ripped off the Merry like he was blasted out of the most powerful cannon known to any pirate. He was high up in the dark sky far, far, far from Hop in the blink of an eye. He hovered there for a moment, seeing the center’s few yellow electri lights in the distance, looking like a candle flame with the black sea surrounding it.

He passed out, falling headfirst into the churning Domus Gulf below.