Nocturna League (Episode 1: The Witching Book) (Nautical Fantasy Short Story) by Kell Inkston Read Free Book Online

turbulence handles is The Captain, holding the heavy table from crashing into the two as well. The ship’s alarm sounds and sailors roused from their sleep dash out to check the damages. The mist is the thickest The Captain’s seen in years, and there’s a distinctly arcane feeling in the air.
    The Captain sighs as the ship rights itself. “How very unpleasant. I wonder what that could have been,” he says as he steps out onto deck. Colette and Dunks join him shortly after.
    “Sir!” An anglerfish seasort says, firing off a jaunty salute to The Captain.
    “Engineer Luisoix. Damage report.”
    “There’s fighting in the helm! We were redirected into a rock!” He says, his bobbing head light shining brightly.
    The Captain turns around to the helm. “Dunklestein, Colette-let’s go.”
    The three step up a flight of stairs to the helm room and the Captain reaches for the knob. At the touch, a shockingly-fast, grey figure bursts through the reinforced glass, and rushes down the stairs. The Captain is hot on the figure with Dunks right behind them. Colette takes a moment to feel for the new revolver at her side. The figure leaps into the blankets of rolling mist, and leaps out from the opposite direction, catching The Captain off guard and delivering a devastating kick to his back. The Captain turns to grasp the figure, but in the same instant the figure leaps off him, and again to the opposite side. At a speed Dunks can barely see, let alone react to, The Captain and the mist-walking figure exchange vicious, lightning strikes between one another, but The Captain’s hits are too slow, and the figure’s are too weak. They trade consistently as other sailors join the brawl, but each one that comes forward receives a quick, mist-driven boot to the face from the figure.
    As the two fire off scathing, powerful punches and kicks, the blond jobber takes aim. She draws a deep breath, rests one hand over her wrist, and pulls back the hammer. Watching The Captain struggle against the mist-walker, she can hear his voice: “Remember, little bun, when you draw the gun, it is not taking out a weapon, so much as it is a statement to your crew that the one you point it at shall be hit. It is an authoritative declaration of your position as captain, and a reassurance of the crew’s security. It is a simple rule: if you miss, you are not really the captain of the situation at hand, and thus not the true captain of your crew. Do not leave it up to fate.” His words ringing in her head, she pulls the trigger, and marks the Captain in his shoulder, missing her mark by only a half second. A strange, black-powder like substance leaks from The Captain’s wound, small, bead-like orbs of fantastical soot.
    The Captain, giving no reservation to the pain, continues fighting, and Colette gets over her failure. The Captain isn’t reacting to her screw up, so neither will she. She takes aim, the crew watching, and even the elusive chef creaking open the kitchen door to take a look. With another click, she fires again and hits the misty assailant in the forearm. The figure smashed into the floor, realizes that its been shot, and then swipes the nearest person that looks like they would be easy to pick up. Amidst the chaos, young jobber and best friend of Colette, Grancis Vereyrty, is the one grabbed. Her frying pan falls to the side as the figure takes her up and leaps off the ship into the dark and the mist.
    “Colette!” she screams in the shrouding fog, her voice fading quickly to silence.
    “Gran! You dumbass!” Colette screams off the port bow, staring blindly into the mist. With a deep breath, she places the gun back in her holster, exhales, and goes up to The Captain, standing straight as he usually does. “We gotta get her back!”
    Dunks gets to his feet, rubbing his head. “Damn, that dude was fast!”
    The Captain nods. “Indeed, though we cannot very well pursue with the Nocturna, her hull having been breached, we’ll have