Atillain Harbor
Suhyun and Hasina's relationship made steady progress, and the contract between Nautilus and Aldamina proceeded without a hitch. When the agreement for regular supplies of water and food from Nautilus was publicly announced, the entire city of Aldamina erupted in cheers. Families with young children were especially overjoyed, some shedding tears of happiness.
In Aldamina, most adult men worked as sailors crossing the Saramar Desert, with few other viable options. Other jobs paid so little that while one might scrape by alone, it was impossible to support a family. To afford water and food for their loved ones, men had no choice but to become sailors—but the training required was a mountain of knowledge. Aldamina did its best to teach aspiring sailors within the city to maximize their survival rates, but mastering everything from ship handling to desert survival and monster countermeasures took a tremendous amount of time. A boy could prepare diligently while his father earned money, but if the father died suddenly, the eldest son had no choice but to set out unprepared.
Even if he became a sailor just to pay the exorbitant costs of water and food, an undertrained recruit was routinely underpaid as standard practice—and assigned not to reputable ships with skilled crews, but to overloaded vessels crewed by outsiders driven by excessive greed. If he survived and returned before the next big sandstorm, learning enough to qualify as a full sailor was a stroke of luck. Otherwise, the next eldest son became the sailor, boarding even cheaper, more dangerous, understaffed ships. This vicious cycle repeated endlessly.
But now, with water and food prices plummeting, families could save their money, hold out long enough to train properly—or even sign on to Nautilus at slightly lower wages. The people of Aldamina raised cheers and kicked off a festival. Daiyen released water and food from the warehouses at bargain prices, fueling the celebration even further.
As the sun dipped low, cooling the desert air, Habub looked down from above at the revelers spilling into the streets. A bittersweet smile crossed his face as he turned to Suhyun. Suhyun had brought new hope to Aldamina, but Habub felt like he'd dumped a calamity on him—handing over the one who drew water from the desert like offering a knife to the throat. Seeing Suhyun arrive with gifts for Hasina, his only remaining family, filled Habub with endless guilt.
The gifts only deepened his remorse: an artifact jar that cleanly stored dozens of tons of water, a carpet of sandworm leather, and shipbuilding tools carved from their teeth. They were far too precious.
"You sure she's okay as a little sister?"
"Haha, more than okay. I'm grateful you gave me such a beauty like Hasina."
"A woman's not just her looks, you know."
Even if Hasina married some freeloading pillar husband who lived off her, she'd probably thank him for it—yet here was Suhyun, superior in every way, taking her away. Habub felt joy mixed with guilt. Was it right to stand by while this naive young man became his sister's prey? Seeing Suhyun laugh it off, Habub couldn't hide his pitying gaze.
'Alas, I can only watch as disaster befalls this helpless youth... My own powerlessness brings tears that won't stop.'
Habub nearly urged Suhyun to reconsider marriage once more, but a glance at his watching wife had him breaking into a cold sweat and clamping his mouth shut. His responsible, family-oriented wife—close to Hasina since childhood—had played mother and big sister to the motherless girl in their father-only home. She'd supported Habub when he had nothing. She cherished Hasina like true kin, more than he did, and strongly approved of her marriage to Suhyun.
A close tie to Suhyun meant massive gains for the family, and she supported her beloved "little sister" wedding the man she loved. With a cold smile, she traced her thumb across her lips in a "shut your mouth" gesture.
'She took my side before marriage, but now she favors Hasina even more.'
Long years of marriage had taught Habub that keeping the peace meant obeying his wife. Mindful of her eyes, he changed the subject.
"Anyway, where to next?"
"Thinking of heading to the sea."
For Bostain's underground city, they needed large monsters with sturdy skeletons or shells—and the ocean teemed with them. Plus, unloading Aldamina's goods meant heading to trade-heavy coastal cities. Conveniently, a port city lay nearby.
"Hmm, from Aldamina... Atillain, then?"
Built around a blue hole on land, Atillain was famed as a natural harbor, ringed by islands and sheer cliffs. Even raging seas left the inner port calm, thanks to barrier islands, while a valley linked it to the plains for easy, defensible cargo transport. Despite the distance from Aldamina, most goods from there routed through Atillain—familiar territory for Habub.
"I can write you an introduction, then."
Habub penned a letter on fine parchment with magical ink, stamping it with the Golden Sand Tower elder's seal—usable only by him—and handed it to Suhyun.
"There's a big mage tower there. Worth a visit."
"Heard it's right in the middle of the blue hole."
"Top-notch shipbuilding tech. I studied there myself—great guys with skills you'll learn from chatting."
Suhyun grinned, accepting the letter.
"Looking forward to it."
The Empire was a polytheistic nation. Officially recognized sea gods numbered three males ruling the waves and eleven goddesses, but including local deities, sea gods exceeded a hundred. Imperial citizens mostly followed regionally popular ones, but long-haul sailors prayed to a different god per port—a staple of their faith. Their holy emblems revealed their routes; at sea, with only ship and gods to rely on, sailors were devout.
Pray to the god of exploration and seas at one harbor, waves and tides at another; mid-ocean, salute both origin and destination ports. Yet their faith was genuine, so gods and priests tolerated the variety. Major ports hosted temples to countless sea deities, their clergy competing fiercely for market share.
Amid Atillain's myriad sea god shrines, one buzzed with unusual clamor—unlike the serene sea outside. Negosia, goddess of trade and navigation, was favored by seafaring merchants for luck, swift voyages, and fortunes. Her followers timed booms perfectly, selling high and sailing fast. But her powers extended further: forewarning dangers or tipping off lucrative opportunities.
The temple stirred because the saintess had received a new prophecy.
"The Saintess received a fresh oracle from the Goddess."
"Ooh, what divine grace—what prophecy?"
Facing eager priests, Atillain's archbishop hesitated before speaking.
"The Goddess warns: 'The child of the sea serpent, bearing the skull emblem, seeks to nest among us. Prepare for calamity.'"
The priests' faces hardened.
"Disaster. If pirates base here, our share plummets!"
Gods grew with faith; priests with gods. People followed helpful deities, not useless ones. Nearby pirates would shift sailors' needs from luck and speed to protection. Temples were pirate targets, not foes. Priests grew grave.
"Hire mercenaries?"
One suggested coin for swords, but the archbishop dissected why not.
"Bad idea. What'll they demand? Fight hard? More likely half-ass it, collude with pirates."
Seasoned in trade and hires, the archbishop knew mercenaries' ways. The priest nodded.
"But what's the alternative?"
Their combat blessings? [Curtain of Flowing Water] for defense or [Isolating Currents] for escape. Useless against foes warranting a divine oracle. Negosia's personal prophecy to her saintess meant a threat beyond her boons—they needed action.
Despairing, the archbishop knelt before the statue: one hand scales, the other compass and astrolabe.
"O Negosia, bearer of the golden scales, granter of unerring time and stars—grant us wisdom to navigate this reverse tide."
He prayed fervently, but the statue stayed silent. Was there no solution, or part of a grander plan? No answer meant they must struggle themselves. Gods aided the striving, not the idle; they guided wills, solved not all woes.
"No choice. Inform the lord at once."
"Is that wise? Telling only faithful might boost our faith."
"Hiding calamity for gain defies the Goddess. Even if we withdraw from Atillain, we follow her teachings—that's our path. Alert everyone, now."
"As the Lady of Lit Paths wills."
"May this voyage follow her will too. Sigh... If only a strong hireling appeared, funded by gold. We have plenty."