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The Shanty Codex I, by Saint Morgan LeFay.
Leonie wanted to jump in joy, as her efforts bore fruit at long last.
The second word remained a mystery, but the third pointed to a location just minutes away.
The development spared her the worst-case scenario, since one name and a location were far better than two names and nowhere to investigate.
Daring to waste no time, she immediately headed for the bar.
***
The Shanty of Untether was indeed a curious one.
Or at least it would’ve been, if Valeria hadn’t studied it extensively.
Still, she was no user of the Shanty of Cognition, and so gaps were only natural.
“What is that!” Pedro, who was still suspended in mid-air, shouted in anguish.
Valeria, in turn, applied more pressure. “I don’t think you have the right to ask for anything after that little stunt of yours.”
To give credit where credit was due, such a switch in attitude was unexpected.
Valeria naturally kept the possibility of quiet resentment in mind, but an assassination attempt? The lad was... an unpredictable variable.
“What do you want?” Pedro asked, confidence a thing of the past.
“Answers,” she replied as she slightly softened her telekinetic grip. “Was Afonso a Submerged?”
“Submerged?”
Yeah. No wonder a Supplicant attacked a Deacon thinking he stood a chance.
“The process you went through this month.”
“No,” Pedro admitted. “I’m the first in generations.”
“How was he able to use the artifact, then?” Valeria asked in puzzlement. Regular humans were only able to use Supplicant-level artifacts, making it a violation of the natural order.
Unless it was by design.
The Shanty did, after all, provide minimal enhancement at first, making it not worth the trouble.
Of course.
Reaching the conclusion on her own, Pedro essentially... lost his value.
“Why do this, Pedro?”
The lad took a long while to answer. “Because I’d rather die than bend to pirates.”
“Is that why you killed the elder?” she asked, leading him to open his eyes wide.
“How did you know?”
I didn’t, but thank you for the feedback.
“I didn’t survive sailing the Atlantic by being a moron, you know?”
As much as she wished to keep the young man alive, he was unpredictable. Her gifts rendered her immune to his Stanzas, but the same couldn’t be said about most other humans. And if such a walking cannon was left to his own devices, only time would tell what would come of it.
“Any last words?” Valeria said with a deep sigh.
“Rot in hell.”
“I’m sorry, I wish I didn’t have to do this,” Valeria sighed again, then let her telekinetic grip tighten on his heart.
***
The moment Leonie entered the bar, she noticed the tension.
The young woman was no amateur regarding intel gathering, yet the patrons remained largely obscure.
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And that made them dangerous.
Choosing to play it safe, Leonie rushed to the bar counter, getting greeted by a handsome, bearded man.
“What can I get you?” the man asked politely.
Her digestion was painfully inferior; thus, ale it was.
As the minutes dragged, she realized that she didn’t know the best way to approach the predicament.
Name-dropping Eloise was the equivalent of saying she’s suicidal, and mentioning Yves seemed equally as counterproductive, and so Alize it was.
“Excuse me, can you deliver a message to a certain Alize for me?” she said to the bartender at last.
“Depends on who’s delivering it,” the man replied, not looking up.
What am I supposed to say?
Situations like those reinforced Leonie’s insecurities, making her feel like she was role-playing a broker. Still, one had to start somewhere.
“A friend of mine lent her a certain ring. I’m here to take it back.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” the bartender replied, meeting her gaze for once.
“Did Alize mention anything about a task she assigned?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
The bartender’s attitude grew tiresome, but she had to endure it for Yves’ sake.
“Investigating a tower on the outskirts. I was the one who handed the assignment,” she clarified as she handed him a piece of paper detailing the mission.
The bartender looked at it before quickly making a decision. “That’s her handwriting, alright.”
He then reached for a compartment below the counter and pulled out a bag. “Please be careful, the contents are fragile.”
Leonie was delighted, but she had no time for celebration, and so she thanked the man, gave a bronze coin as a tip, then went on her way.
The peace didn’t last, however, as someone blocked her path meters away from the exit.
“I recognize you,” the shaggy man said. “You’re that vulture’s sister.”
His words instantly drew the other patrons’ attention.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Leonie said, trying to keep her cool.
“Sure you do,” the man replied, before pulling a knife out.
“Diego!” the bartender shouted.
“You stay out of it!” the shaggy man replied, drawing a silent agreement from the others.
Leonie nearly flinched from fear before swiftly recalling that she had one last card up her sleeve.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Leonie opened her palm and summoned a ball of flame. “Back off.”
The man didn’t need to be told twice, as he immediately gasped before taking the exit he had blocked moments ago.
A man threatened her with a knife, yet it ended as fast as it began.
The atmosphere instantly turned suffocating, with even the bartender regarding her with apprehension.
Leonie didn’t wish to endure their gazes for much longer, leading her to go her way.
The moment she stepped foot outside, her bravado melted, making her tremble uncontrollably.
She did it.
She actually did it.
Leonie had, for the first time, used a Stanza against someone. And it felt... exhilarating.
The moment of triumph nearly threatened to distract her from the task at hand until she remembered how critical Yves’ condition was.
Leonie opened the bag, and sure enough, an emerald ring was waiting inside. There were also two vials, but they were secondary. She had to make it back, and fast.
“Leonie. How did it go?” her brother asked once she eventually made it.
The question went ignored, however, as she quickly rushed upstairs.
Thankfully, she remembered to close Yves’ room before leaving, lest a vengeful pirate assault him for a grudge.
Leonie fiddled with the antique lock for a few seconds before rushing inside.
Yves, lying painfully still, made her skip a beat before she saw his chest move.
It’s getting worse.
Having little time to spare, Leonie approached the dying man, then placed the ring on his index finger.
At first, the effect wasn’t visible, nearly plunging Leonie into despair.
Then it hit.
His skin lost its sickly yellow hue in favor of a more olive one, while his breathing instantly regained its healthy rhythm.
The changes were fast, far too fast for something that was Supplicant-level.
The Shanty of Demise is terrifying.
Moments later, Yves opened his eyes.
“Leonie?” he asked in puzzlement. “What are you doing here?”
The question caught her by surprise. She had a million things to say. Instead, she chose to hug him. “I’m really sorry for the oversight.”
Yves, in turn, chuckled slightly. “It’s fine, it was on me, more than anything.”
“Why blame yourself?” she asked while pulling away, slightly embarrassed as she hoped he didn’t interpret the hug the wrong way.
“Who removes a Rejuvenation ring hours after escaping a tower that spreads ailments of all sorts?” Yves replied, voice less hoarse. “That was really sloppy of me.”
The man was... refreshingly mature. Most bounty hunters would’ve blamed her, even threatened her. Yet, here this one was, taking accountability for something beyond his control.
“Well,” Leonie said, cheerful demeanor returning. “At least now you know to never take it off.”
It wasn’t until then that Leonie realized what he meant the other day. Artifacts truly were no trifling matter.
“What about the treasure?” Yves asked, humor returning to his face.
“The cheat didn’t pay a dime,” Leonie replied while rummaging through the bag.
“Oh?”
“She gave us these, though,” she added as she pulled out the two vials of liquid and a letter. Leonie had no clue what purpose the liquids served, but judging by Yves’ expression, the feeling wasn’t shared.
“Could you please give me the letter?” the bounty hunter asked.
“I can read, you know?” Leonie replied, slightly offended.
Her demeanor must’ve been humorous to him, as he chuckled slightly. “Very well. Read it for both of us.”
The letter had no envelope to speak of, and so Leonie’s eyes immediately landed on the first word.
“Dear Francis,” she began.
Who’s Francis?
She pushed the thought aside, however, as it wasn’t the time for it.
“It isn’t often that I’m proven wrong. But this time, I was pleasantly surprised by your earnest character and goodwill. I sincerely thank you for your assistance and would like to apologize profusely for the misdirection.”
Leonie pauses momentarily, waiting for feedback, but with Yves providing none, she kept going.
“What lies inside this bag might not be gold or silver, but I assure you that it’s equally as valuable. If ingested, the light brown one shall grant you exceptional endurance, while the dark blue one shall provide enhanced observation skills. Forgive me for not mentioning the Stanzas, as I’m unaware of their names.”