Chapter Text
Wriothesley woke up to the sound of howling wind, rain pounding against the small window of his bedroom on the Wingalet. There was a sharp knock on the door, followed by Clorinde’s voice calling his name. The ship swayed to the side, and Wriothesley nearly tumbled out of bed. He threw off the covers, grabbing his coat and hat from where they hung on the wall, before opening the door to find a worried Clorinde, hair and clothes soaked with rainwater.
“Captain Wriothesley, Port Lumidouce has been hit by a storm.” Clorinde held a lantern, desperately trying to keep the flame from dying in the rain and strong wind. It was early, before the sun had even appeared on the eastern horizon, and the small lantern barely illuminated the darkness of night, which clung to the morning like a shroud.
“I can tell. What do you suppose we can do about it?” Wriothesley rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He hadn’t been asleep for more than a few hours, and he was starting to regret his choice to stay up late the night before. After returning to the ship, he had poured over maps of the Fontainian Sea, planning out the best route to follow once the Wingalet set sail again.
“I don’t think it’s safe to stay on the ship. This storm is unlike any I’ve ever experienced. It’s worse than the one that we encountered in the Windward Passage.”
“Clorinde, are you suggesting that the ship could be destroyed by this storm?” Wriothesley sighed. He was too tired to care, but he really didn’t think that the Wingalet could be sunk so easily.
“Yes. It’s nearing hurricane season, and around here, those storms have been known to sink ships in harbors.” Clorinde tucked the lantern closer to her chest, shielding it from a sudden gust of wind. “We also have to wait a bit before setting sail. With this storm, not a single ship is able to leave the harbor.”
“How long are we going to have to wait?”
“At least a day or two. This storm looks like it’s going to be a big one. Captain, can you please come ashore?” Clorinde pleaded. “I still don’t know why you insist on staying on the ship, when you could go to an inn while we’re in port, just like everyone else does.”
“I just don’t want anything to happen to the Wingalet. Besides, if something did happen, the captain always goes down with the ship.”
“Wriothesley – ugh, whatever. We won’t be setting sail today, just so you know. If you want to spend one more day with that…anchor, then I suppose you’re free to do so.”
Wriothesley smiled, his hand drifting to the scale necklace that he wore. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”
Wriothesley begrudgingly went back to the shore to wait for morning, watching the storm from under the awning of a nearby building. The ships in the harbor were tossed around like toys in the churning waves, but none of them capsized. The Wingalet floated proudly in the port, swaying with the rhythm of the tides.
The sun rose in the east, though the sky stayed dark and gloomy, storm clouds looming overhead. Lights began to turn on in nearby houses, and Wriothesley began the walk to the nearest restaurant for breakfast. He dashed across the open road, taking shelter under the eaves of the buildings on the other side of the street. The rain poured down from above, angry and unrelenting.
Wriothesley ducked through the door of the restaurant, a cozy little pub with a nautical theme. It wasn’t as nice as The Rusty Rudder, but Wriothesley didn’t feel like walking all the way across Port Lumidouce in the pouring rain.
He ordered a small breakfast, complete with a cup of tea, and sat down at a small table by a window. There were only a few other people in the room, and they sat quietly on the other side of the pub. Wriothesley sipped his tea, looking around the building. There were maps on the walls, and the steering wheel of a ship had been mounted behind the bar. An array of model boats sat on shelves around the establishment, and there were a few paintings of the ocean.
The bar itself was covered with carvings, not too different from the carvings on the steering wheel that sat aboard the Wingalet. Wriothesley spotted carvings of krakens, a sea goddess, ghost ships, and…a dragon. It looked almost identical to the carving on the Wingalet. Wriothesley finished his meal, before moving to sit at the bar, directly in front of the carving.
The carvings here were much more detailed, and Wriothesley noticed a few things that were absent from the Wingalet’s wheel. The dragon had a teardrop shape below its eye, and there was a storm cloud above it. Following a pattern of waves, Wriothesley found a carving of a merfolk. Further down the piece of wood, the merfolk stood as a human.
“Somethin’ caught yer eye, eh?” The bartender walked around the bar, inspecting the carvings that Wriothesley had been looking at.
“Yeah. Do you know anything about the story that this carving depicts?” Wriothesley asked, running his hand over the wood.
“Aye, that’s an old tale, old as time itself, they say. See here?” The man gestured to the dragon. “This dragon was once the ruler of Fontaine, and it saved Fontaine from a flood. And this is where it gets interestin’, because the dragon disappeared mysteriously. They say that the dragon was reincarnated in the form of a merfolk.”
“That’s the dragon…from Neuvillette’s song,” Wriothesley breathed. He pointed to the third carving, where the merfolk – or the dragon, he supposed – had taken a human form. “What about this? What happened next?”
“Ah, well, that’s the part that everyone’s still confused about. The story says that the dragon was reborn as a merfolk, but was given the power to become human for one month every year. Nobody knows why that’s the case, and no one really believes it, but that’s just how the story goes.”
“Interesting.” Wriothesley glanced at the clock. It was half past ten, so Neuvillette would likely be awake by now. “Ah, I should get going soon. Thanks for telling me that story.”
“Aye, I’m glad ye found it entertainin’. That story’s a bit on the, er, archaic side, and not many people care for it these days. I just wonder how much of the story has been forgotten by now.” The bartender laughed sadly. “Ah, don’t let an old mariner like me get yer spirits down.”
“It’s fine. Thanks for the food. And the story.” Wriothesley placed a handful of coins on the counter. “Keep the change.”
Wriothesley ducked out the door again, placing a hand on his hat to be sure it didn’t blow away. The rain had calmed slightly, though it still poured from the sky in angry gray sheets, nearly heavy enough to qualify as a torrential downpour. Wriothesley knew the way to the inn by heart now, and his feet carried him there quickly, though by the time he had reached the inn, his hat and coat were dripping with rainwater.
A small bell rang as Wriothesley entered the inn, causing a young girl to look up from behind the front desk.
“Hello. Is there anything I can help you with?”
“Hey, a friend of mine was staying here, have you seen him this morning? He’s tall, and has really long hair. His name is Neuvillette. That ring any bells?”
The girl looked down at the desk, flipping through the pages of a book. “Neuvillette. Room five. He checked out of here about half an hour ago.”
“Wait, so…he left already?” Wriothesley’s spirits fell. He reached a hand up, briefly touching the necklace that he wore.
“Yeah, I'm afraid so. There aren’t any ships leaving the harbor today, though, because of the storm, so you might still catch him, as long as he’s leaving by ship.”
“Alright. Thank you.” Wriothesley nodded his appreciation, before running back outside, not minding the pouring rain that stung his face. He ran down the street, navigating the twisting roads of Port Lumidouce, making his way to the harbor.
He was out of breath by the time he reached the docks, scanning the area. There was no sign of Neuvillette. He looked over the ships, though none of them seemed suited to taking passengers. Wriothesley waved to the nearest person he saw, a sailor who was tying up a set of ropes.
“Hey, do you know if any of these ships were set to leave today? Specifically any that were taking passengers?”
The sailor shook his head. “None of these ships are specifically for passengers. Ones that were set to leave today, though…” He thought for a moment. “Three ships over, and if it’s not that one, try five ships down from that one.”
“Thanks.” Wriothesley turned on his heel, counting the ships as he passed them. He went three ships over, to a larger ship that flew colors from Liyue and Inazuma. The name of the ship, Alcor, was displayed proudly on the side.
Wriothesley walked down the dock, which was strangely empty. No sign of Neuvillette, nor a single other person in sight.
“Hello. May I help you with anything?” A voice called from above.
Wriothesley turned his head to search for the voice. His eyes landed on a young man, perched precariously on the railing of the boat. He wore Inazuman clothing, and his light hair had a single streak of red in the front.
“If you’re looking for the captain, she’s probably at some tavern.”
“No, I don’t need to see the captain. I was just wondering if you had any passengers that would have departed with you today,” Wriothesley explained.
“Well, with this weather, no one is leaving the port. And no, we weren’t going to take any passengers.” The young man tilted his head to the side. “Do you need anything else?”
“No, I was just looking for someone.”
“What do they look like?”
“Well, he’s tall, a bit shorter than I am, with really long white hair. He usually dresses really fancy, looks like he’s from the Court of Fontaine,” Wriothesley described. “Have you seen him this morning?”
The young man thought for a moment, nodding slowly. “Yes, I have. He was walking past the docks, and he was carrying a suitcase in his hands. I think…he went beyond the docks, all the way down the beach in…that direction.” The young man gestured down the shore.
Wriothesley nodded. What could Neuvillette have been doing? “Thanks. I’ll look over there.”
Wriothesley followed what the young man had said, going beyond the docks and onto the beach. The sand was wet with rainwater, but Wriothesley could see the faint outline of footprints in the sand. The footprints were fresh, made less than an hour earlier.
He followed the footprints, passing around a curve in the island. Looking back, he could no longer see the harbor. As he walked down the shore, he passed caves that were tucked into the rocky cliffs that rose up from the sand.
Wriothesley paused, reaching for the pocket watch that hung from his belt. He clicked the button to open the watch, counting the time that was shown on the clock face. Already half past eleven. He dropped the watch back into his pocket, and continued on, following the trail of footprints in the sand.
He passed more of the caves, counting them as he went along. One, two, three, four. Wriothesley continued on through the storm, wondering again why Neuvillette was out here. The rain was beginning to slow, and the winds were growing calmer, but the storm was still fierce. Distracted by his thoughts, Wriothesley almost missed when the trail of footprints veered off towards the cliffs.
Puzzled, Wriothesley followed the trail, arriving at a cave in the rock. This was the fifth cave that he had seen in the cliffs since leaving the town. The footprints let inside, until the sand gave way to a stone floor, wet with seawater from the highest tides.
“Neuvillette?” Wriothesley called. His voice echoed back from somewhere deep within the cave.
Wriothesley continued on, barely able to see in the dark. He made it to the end of the cave, looking around in confusion. There was no one here but himself. He turned around in a circle, surveying the cavern from several different angles. In the dim light of the cave, he was barely able to make out what appeared to be a large box.
Crossing the cavern, Wriothesley knelt down to inspect the box. It was a large wooden chest, fitted with an ornate clasp on the front. It was unlocked, and Wriothesley pushed the lid open. Inside, he found a large amount of gold coins, stacked neatly in one corner. There was a collection of elegant clothing, organized and folded, along with a pair of matching boots. There was a familiar suitcase, decorated with light-blue leather. Taking a closer look, Wriothesley recognized some of the clothing as the garments that he had seen Neuvillette wearing. Why were Neuvillette’s belongings here?
A small glint of light caught his eye, and Wriothesley pushed the clothing aside to see what it was. At the bottom of the chest, there were several dark-blue scales, identical to the one that hung around Wriothesley’s neck.
“Neuvillette, what are you hiding?” Wriothesley whispered to himself, taking a mental image of the chest, before slowly lowering the lid.
He wandered out of the cave, searching for anything he had missed. There. In the sand, he spotted another trail of footprints, different from the ones he had been following before. Unlike the others, these prints had been left by someone without shoes, which made sense considering that Neuvillette’s boots were in the box in the cave. The trail led towards the ocean, where waves crashed wildly on the shore, the ocean having turned a deep blue-gray on account of the storm. Wriothesley followed the footprints all the way to the water’s edge, until he reached the waves, and the trail stopped abruptly.
“Neuvillette?” He called. There was no reply.
Panicking, Wriothesley started running down the shore, continuing in the same direction he had been going earlier, away from Port Lumidouce. He didn’t want to believe that Neuvillette had walked into the sea, which was churning angrily in the stormy winds. He could only hope that Neuvillette had simply walked down the beach, and that the waves had washed away his footprints.
If his theory was true, Neuvillette would have gone farther down the beach, not back to the port, otherwise Wriothesley would have seen him. Wriothesley followed the shoreline, eyes on the lookout for any footprints, or other signs of Neuvillette.
He wasn’t sure how long he had been searching, dashing frantically down the beach, when he fell to his knees. He checked his pocket watch. It had been almost an hour. He had been running for part of the way, so he should have caught up to Neuvillette by now. The fact that he hadn’t, paired with the footprints that led directly into the sea, all of his belongings stowed away safely in the cave – no. Wriothesley couldn’t accept that.
He forced himself to stand, beginning the walk back to Port Lumidouce.
Wriothesley stood at the helm of the Wingalet, Port Lumidouce disappearing on the horizon behind the ship. It had taken three days for the storm to end, and Wriothesley had gotten the ship sailing the next morning, wanting to be far away from Port Lumidouce if the prophecy was fulfilled.
The skies had cleared, leaving only the most beautiful endless blue, where there had once been only dark-gray storm clouds. The sea had returned to its aquamarine hue, the one that Wriothesley treasured. Now, looking out over the ocean, nothing on the horizon, Wriothesley didn’t know how to feel. At the beginning of the month, he had been wary of heading to shore, missing the sight of the ocean and the sky. Now, he was partially glad to see the familiar horizon, but his happiness was twisted with sorrow.
He wished for Neuvillette to be by his side. He wasn’t even sure if Neuvillette was alive. Wriothesley had stayed at the docks, hoping to see Neuvillette again, searching for a sign that he was alive and well, and not sitting at the bottom of the sea, without a single breath in his lungs. Nothing. Not even word that he had gone to another port, which wouldn’t even be possible, seeing as Port Lumidouce was the only port on the island.
Wriothesley sighed. The Wingalet was heading to Poisson next, where he could hopefully find some sort of solace. Where Port Lumidouce was a pirate’s town disguised as a respectable harbor, Poisson was the opposite. It was a den of thieves and pirates, and it did nothing to hide that fact. They would be able to find a lead in Poisson, something that would start the Pirates of Meropide on their next hunt for gold and treasure. The thrill of an adventure might be just what Wriothesley needed to get his mind off Neuvillette’s possible death.
Gesturing to a nearby sailor, Wriothesley passed the steering wheel off to someone else, brushing his hand over the carvings one last time, before heading down to the main deck for a short break. He made his way to the front of the boat, leaning against the railing.
The aquamarine sea stretched out in front of him, nothing breaking the perfect horizon. Turning his attention to the water, Wriothesley watched the ship split through the waves, cruising along at a quick pace. At this rate, they would reach Poisson in a few days.
Wriothesley watched the waves a bit more, sun glinting off of the bright-blue water. Then, he saw it. A dark shape below the water, swimming alongside the ship. At first, Wriothesley assumed it to be a shark, but the more he watched it, the more he realized that it must be something else. A shark swam by moving its tail from side to side, but whatever this creature was, it propelled itself forward by moving its tail up and down.
A dolphin, then. But that couldn’t be the case. Dolphins almost always traveled with their pods, and this creature was alone, and much too big. The shape appeared to be about three meters long, much larger than any dolphin.
Wriothesley puzzled over what it could be.
That was when the creature’s tail broke the surface of the water. Opulent and deep-blue, covered with scales, the exact same shade of blue as the scale that hung around Wriothesley’s neck. The tail had a powerful fin, which crested out of the water elegantly. The tail disappeared below the water, along with the mysterious creature.
That night, Wriothesley stood on the deck of the Wingalet. The night crew had taken over, a smaller number of men that kept the ship sailing, albeit at a slightly slower pace, all throughout the night. Wriothesley stood at the front of the ship, feeling almost completely alone, even though there were other people awake. He closed his eyes, listening to the lull of the waves.
Maybe it was a dream, maybe it was just his imagination, but Wriothesley almost thought that he could hear…singing. It wasn’t a work song, nothing sung by the crew to keep busy while sailing the ship. No, the voice was one that Wriothesley had heard only a few times before, and the song was one that only one person could know. A song of a dragon, a princess, and a human, lost to time.
It had to be a dream, as that was the only explanation for how he was hearing Neuvillette’s voice, singing to him from somewhere below, almost as if he was floating in the waves. Wriothesley didn’t dare open his eyes, for fear that it would chase away the dream. Instead, he listened. He listened to the song that Neuvillette had once sung. Neuvillette, who might be dead, who he would most likely never see again.
For now, however, he allowed himself to dream. To dream that Neuvillette was by his side, singing to him one last time.
A single tear slid down his cheek, falling into the sea below.