Dawn's first light shone across the vast open sea, that first morning light peeking over the horizon and into the sea foam mist in just that perfect way as to brilliantly illuminate the surface of the water in a myriad of colors. Bright, vibrant, and numerous, but it was how the foamy fog gave the light a certain feel of the ethereal that was truly enchanting. At least, that's what captain Razortalon thought. The aven officer stood at the front of his vessel's command bridge, the [i]Outreach,[/i] enjoying the only pleasure he still got out of his job. Twenty years working in the Bellenar League's fleet of trade ships didn't get him much. Sure, he had a vessel of his own, but was it really? The League officially owned it, and he had to answer for just about every decision he made when she was in the air. Requisitioning maintenance parts was a pain, the crew disrespected him constantly, and now? Now he had to deal with the [i]guests.[/i] When Razortalon was informed that he'd be promoted to captain and get a ship of his own, nothing in his twenty years of working trade boats, making connections with Viragraf ports, greasing palms, fixing mechanical problems, fighting off Raldoran scum, and general bravery could have led him to believe, or be prepared, for what came next. 

The [i]Outreach[/i] was not just the standard trading airship that you'll see in every Bellenar port. It doubled as a luxury cruiseline. In between trade ports Razortalon dealt with the most incessant and irritating, not to mention baffling, complaints he had ever heard in his life. What constituted as a "captain's emergency" had undeniably changed since his last ship. Now the only single solitary comfort he took in this draining position was in the ocean's Morning Beauty.

"Captain!" called out one of the crew members, a young human woman in a stewards uniform. Razortalon gave a small sigh of exasperation, paused to enjoy the sight just a bit longer, then turned to face his demons.

"Yes?" he asked, his voice steady.

"There's been an incident with one of the guests, and he'd like you to see him," she reported. [i]Of course there was an incident,[/i] the captain thought to himself. Razortalon noted the tone she used, as though she were playing messenger for another side. Peculiar. 

"Send him to my quarters." The senior aven couldn't suppress his sigh.

"Um, the thing is, sir," she began, stammering. Razortalon raised an eyebrow toward her strange behavior, but urged her to continue. "He said that he wanted [i]you[/i] to see [i]him.[/i] Sir," She added, hastily.

The captain couldn't handle how taken aback he was at such an incredulous demand. He blinked for a moment, unsure of what to say or how to proceed. The young crewman took his silence as encouragement to continue.

"It's the VIP guest, sir. The one staying in our luxury suite." She thought she was being helpful. The captain would have preferred she jump out the window. Or better yet, he could jump out the window. At least he had wings, then she could be captain.

"Dismissed." He spoke curtly and suddenly. The young woman nodded, then turned and left the bridge. Once she had made her exit, captain Razortalon scratched where his beak met the flesh of his face, then adjusted his naval cap. Hoo boy, this was going to be one of those days, wasn't it? The bird man addressed his pilots with a simple, "As you were," and left the bridge himself.

The journey to the luxury suite was one that seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, while simultaneously never ending. The captain mulled through his own mind as he walked (or flew, in the case of heading up one floor at a point). He did his best to prepare for this VIP guest of theirs. He couldn't think of any before that had given such a direct and demanding disrespect to his authority, but he had dealt with the kind before. Sure, it would be a pain in his tail feathers. Sure, he'd rather be anywhere else, doing anything else. He was the captain though. Twenty years of experience couldn't fail him now. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't actually met this passenger. They had picked him up back on Fellview Rock, if he remembered the reports correctly, and since then the man had paid for his time aboard in gold coins the crew had never seen before. He had meals brought to his suite, but never stepped outside, never issued a complaint, never interacted with anyone at all as far as the captain could remember. Now that he thought about it, just what could have gotten this incredibly reclusive guest so upset that he demanded the captain himself come in person?

Razortalon snapped back to reality once he stopped in front of the door to the luxury suite. Having been so lost in thought, his mind racing, that's why time had felt to stretch out. Now that he was here it was as though everything he had experienced snapped back into place, condensing even into a much smaller increment. The senior aven officer shook his head, forced himself to ignore the pit in his stomach, and knocked on the door.

[color=black][b]"Proceed,"[/b][/color] answered a baritone voice, a bit gravelly with just the slightest hint of a rasp. The captain did exactly that.

The lights inside the room were completely dark. It wasn't just that they had been turned off, the feeling was much more potent than that. Darkness covered the windows where even natural light should have been trickling in. It was as though the aven had stepped into a realm of pure shadow. He suppressed an uneasy shiver and, going from memory, reached for where he knew the light switch to be, but was interrupted.

[color=black][b]"There is no point,"[/b][/color] spoke the voice from somewhere in the middle of the room. [color=black][b]"You have lost your light. It is not so easy to fix as the flip of a switch."[/b][/color]

The captain felt more than a little creeped out, for multiple reasons. How had the guest known he was reaching for the lights? What did he mean that Razortalon had lost his light? Why keep them engulfed in this darkness? Clearly their VIP was a mage of some manner. Razortalon disliked and instinctively distrusted mages. Stubbornly, he flipped the switch. No lights came on.

[color=black][b]"You would do well to refine your listening, Captain."[/b][/color] That tone was so condescending it infuriated him. A second later and the door closed shut, having moved entirely on its own.

"What's the purpose of keeping us in this shroud?" Razortalon inquired, the hostility clear in his voice. "You trying to ambush me?"

[color=black][b]"We are not in a shroud,"[/b][/color] the voice answered. [color=black][b]"You are merely lost. You have been for some time now. As to your other question, no. It would be terrible manners to assault my most gracious host. Especially when your crew has been so providing."[/b][/color]

This guy was seriously creepy. It was as though he were trying to ruffle the captain's feathers, and he did not like it one bit! Still, it wasn't like there was anything that he could actually do about it. The guest hadn't, to the best of the aven's knowledge, done anything wrong. "I was informed there was an incident you wanted to see me about?"

[color=black][b]"No. There was an incident that I wanted you to see me about. The distinction is subtle, but crucially important."[/b][/color] There was that condescending tone again. It's like this guy felt as though he were born better, more important. [color=black][b]"You have a traitor on board, Captain. A spy for the Church of Escolan."[/b][/color]

That immediately grabbed the aven's attention. "How do you kn-"

[color=black][b]"It is poor taste for a host to interrupt his guest, Captain,"[/b][/color] the voice interjected, cutting him off. [color=black][b]"I have seen him at night, during the graveyard shift. He sends long distance communication to his superiors. An aven mechanic named Featherweight."[/b][/color]

Captain Razorclaw rearranged his expression, finding it difficult to choose his appearance from confusion, anger, surprise, and disbelief. The end result was some mix between them all, a fluid and ever changing mask of emotional turmoil. "Where? And how? By all reports, nobody has ever seen you leave your room! What kind of proof do you have that one of my crew is a spy?"

[color=black][b]Go to your cargo hold and inspect crate 34C. You'll find supplies have gone missing. That's because Featherweight took them and has been passing them along to his Escolan handlers in the ports you've stopped at. Keep an eye on him when we land next. I'm sure you'll see everything you need yourself."[/b][/color]

The captain wasn't sure what to make of that. He tried to think of the correct response, but could not find the words before his guest spoke up again. [color=black][b]"I offer you a tip for your services. You are dismissed, Captain."[/b][/color]

A single gold coin flew through the air toward Razortalon, which he caught. This surprised him, not because he lacked the dexterity to catch a coin, but because he could see the piece of gold. He could see it, plain as day in this room of sheer blackness. The door behind him opened up once again, and the captain excused himself, slinking out into the light and shutting the door behind him. He took a moment to compose himself, gave a weary sigh, then looked at the coin he had been provided. The thing was unusual. Thicker than most currency he had become familiar with in his decades aboard trade ships, with better overall quality. On both sides the coin had some kind of artistic design that resembled the sun. The aven captain scoffed, then pocketed the piece of gold.

"Why do I get stuck transporting the freaks?"