Published at 9th of September 2025 12:31 pm

Book 5: Chapter 16 A Good Deed [Part 1]

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Between the twin islands of Quas and Qis stretches the Grey Sea—so named not for any hue in the water, but for the valiant Lord Admiral Grey, whose daring voyage first brought the islands to the attention of the Aranthian realm. It is said that Grey, resolute in spirit, navigated treacherous straits where fog and foam birthed endless ambushes by Tides corsairs and marauder pirates. Undaunted, he pressed on until at last he anchored at the shores of Quas and Qis, finding them lush with verdant forests and teeming with life, yet curiously remote in the grand chart of the seas.

In those days, the native islanders lived in small, close-knit communities, worshipping a pantheon of a thousand deities that dwelled in the rustling leaves, the dancing fields of grain, and the gentle laps of the tide against their beaches. They were short of stature, their skin a warm brown, and the silvering of their hair came upon them in early adulthood. Despite being primitives, they proved gracious hosts. When Grey offered them protection from the encroaching Tides raiders—whose war galleys had already begun prowling the region in search of plunder and fresh slaves—the islanders responded with great gratitude. They eagerly supplied Grey and his crew with fresh provisions, herbs from the forest, and a knowledge of sea currents that proved invaluable for further exploration.

Seeing their openness and generosity, Grey dedicated the remainder of his life to forging a lasting bond between Quas, Qis, and the Aranthian mainland. He coordinated the arrival of missionaries and scholars, certain that Aranthian religion and learning could uplift the island peoples. On Quas, he oversaw the founding of a great school, a modest institution at first but destined to flourish over centuries into what is now revered as the University of Quas—its archives said to be among the most extensive in the known world. Meanwhile, on Qis, Grey laid the cornerstone of a small wooden chapel devoted to the Goddess Ascended, which in time grew into the Grand Cathedral, its marble arches towering like pale guardians over the island’s coastal cliffs.

Yet the islands, for all their promise, were not spared tragedy. In an age rife with sea-borne maladies, a devastating plague struck the native population, wiping them out. Aranthian missionaries and settlers—those who were strangely immune to the plague—became the primary inhabitants in the wake of the calamity. Through the sustained influence of the Aranthians missionaries and scholars, Quas rose to prominence as a bastion of learning, while Qis evolved into a revered center of spiritual devotion.

- The Fanciful Travels by Beron de Laney 376 AC.

I slipped into the formal indoor attire favored by the locals before making my way to Aelayah’s chambers. The loose fabric was cool and comfortable and I had taken a liking to this mode of dress. Farzan’s men lined the corridors, and though they watched my every step, they knew me well enough not to interfere. Even so, so large was the estate that it took nearly ten minutes before I finally arrived at Aelayah’s reception hall.

As in many parts of her palace, a thin sheet of water trickled down the carved marble walls, its gentle murmur echoing in the stillness. The rippling reflections danced across the stone floor, lending the chamber an almost otherworldly feel. I stood there briefly, taking in the sight, before a servant whose name escaped me announced my presence and ushered me through the door.

Inside, Aelayah reclined on a mound of sumptuous cushions, radiating both indolence and authority. She held a delicate teacup between her slender fingers, steam curling from its surface. The impracticality of such a small vessel grated on my nerves, but I had learned there was often some obscure cultural significance behind these customs.

“You will have evening tea with us, Gilgamesh,” she said, leaving no room for refusal.

I dipped my head in a small gesture of respect and settled onto a cushion opposite her. “Of course, Lady Aelayah. Allow me first to extend my congratulations.” A slight smile tugged at my lips. “Or rather, Sultana Aelayah. May your reign be long and prosperous.”

She laughed—a hollow, bitter sound that rang nonetheless like a silver bell. You would never have guessed from the tenor of her mirth that she had just seized the power she had coveted for so long, becoming one of the most influential figures in the Grieving Lands.

“What is next, Sultana?” I asked, letting the slightest edge enter my tone. “Aranthia? Quas? Or the Empire itself? Perhaps you’d even like me to conquer the Tides?”

Her laughter cut off abruptly, a delicate eyebrow arching high. “Could you deliver them to me, Gilgamesh?” she asked. Amusement lingered in her alien eyes, but it was tinted with something else—something cold and calculating.

“If that is what you desire,” I replied, my voice betraying no hint of the tension that coiled in my chest.

She set aside her teacup, leaning in as if to peer deeper into my thoughts. “And what do you think it is that I want exactly?”

I met her gaze steadily. “Perhaps,” I said carefully, “we could start by fixing you. After all, women usually take pride in their appearance.”

Her expression hardened instantly, eyes narrowing. “What do you mean by this?” she demanded, her voice low with warning. “Choose your words carefully.”

Ah, how quickly the powerful forget who truly holds the leash. Even without my armor or weapons, I could snap her neck with ease. The thought almost made me smile—but I kept my features still, letting the silence speak for itself.

I did enjoy prodding people now and then, so I couldn’t resist the opportunity. Laughing inwardly, I sought to divert her attention.

“I mean no rudeness, but about your eyes… You probably have difficulty seeing out of one. If it isn’t treated, it could lead to blindness—or worse.” I spoke with mock confidence, half-lying or simply guessing. In truth, I knew next to nothing about her condition.

She pursed her lips, temporarily lost in thought as she weighed my words. Her gaze drifted toward her tiny teacup, which she raised to her lips once more. I mirrored her action, maintaining a fixed smile to mask my amusement.

After a moment, she shrugged, attempting a casual nonchalance that didn’t quite conceal the longing etched into her features. “Well, if you’re offering, I suppose I have no reason to refuse,” she said with a hollow laugh. “There will be a price, I presume?”

“I am sworn to you,” I replied evenly. “Any price will be well within your means. It is, after all, just a small favor. But I must warn you…” I let my voice trail off in the annoying manner of the faux-mystics of this land. “You may lose a little of yourself.”

She inhaled sharply, intrigue sparking in her eyes. “Mysterious,” she murmured, her fingers tightening slightly around the fragile porcelain cup. “How very intriguing, Gilgamesh. How very intriguing, indeed.”

Aelayah’s lips parted slightly, and I found myself fixed upon that delicate curve. When her eyes were “fixed,” she would be a beauty of no small note—a prize if there ever was one.

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