Arkadios
<Snipped quote by Bingelly>
Arkadios motioned for Volodar to lead the way if he so pleased, before setting off in the direction of the bridge. It never hurt to be careful, even if they weren't lurching out of control yet, "That is useful to know. I appreciate, Sir that you may have been reluctant to step forward to do any flying at this point. However, if tensions boil over, which I hope they will not after this little matinée, it is good to know we have someone else capable of piloting us to safety."
As they approached the bridge, Itzi's back was visible at the controls, "Well that puts my mind at rest," Arkadios commented mildly, "Shall we return to the party?" he suggested.
Volodar Naesandoral
"Captain, a word before we return if you will," Volodar gestured for Arkadios to pull off into one of the cabins with him. "What is your intent when we make land and make contact with the Mittelvolk? Miss Spyroe promised some of this adhoc crew payment in exchange for their service. A single bar of that gold could likely outfit a regiment or keep one in the field longer than our enemies, and I fear she may be overly generous for what amounts to a fortnight's worth of labor."
James E. Carter and
Mitunbaal VasiliouCowritten
Carter led Mitunbaal out toward the open space between the tables, the rhythm of the phonograph filling the hall. His grip was firm but easy, steadying her as he shifted them into motion. At first his steps had that unmistakable Ardellian looseness; his boots tapping in an almost frontier two-step but he quickly tempered it with the steadier lines of Old Continent waltz, letting her find the balance between the two. A little rough around the edges, maybe, but guided with enough confidence that it worked.
"
Can’t say we’ve had much chance to talk proper," he admitted with a faint smile, “
Figure the least I can do is make amends for that."
He dipped his head slightly in something close to a bow, even as they kept moving in time with the music.
“
James E. Carter,” he said by way of introduction, his tone light but touched with a kind of sincerity that wasn’t always there when he spoke, “
Former Evig Company shipping captain, now at your service.”
The shariq took a moment to find her partner's very confusing step before falling into the pattern the ardellian had opened for her. She proved a skilled enough improvisor that the awkward blending of the steps looked somewhat natural for what it was, though it wasn't without a few near steps on each other's foots.
"
I can be a rather peculiar woman," Mitunbaal replied with a chuckle. "
It is hardly your fault our routines do not orbit one another."
She gave the man an awkward smile as she still followed his steps, her inquisitive brown eyes studying the man with each movement.
"
Miss Mitunbaal Vasiliou, it's a pleasure, sir."
Carter let out a low chuckle as he guided her through another turn, adjusting his step when their feet nearly tangled. For all the odd mix of styles, she picked it up faster than most he’d ever tried to lead.
“
Suppose our routines don’t orbit much,” he said, grin tugging as he echoed her phrasing, “
but hell, this ship only has so many corners to hide in. Figure sooner or later, we’d have had to cross paths. Might as well make it here on the floor instead of bumpin’ shoulders in a corridor.”
He let the rhythm carry them a moment before his brow furrowed in thought.
“
Mitunbaal Vasiliou,” he repeated, the name rolling slower off his tongue this time. “
I reckon a name like that don’t come from the Western reaches. Shariq, isn’t it?”
"
Indeed it is, Mister Carter," Mitunbaal replied.
Carter gave a small nod, guiding her through another easy turn.
“
Thought so,” he said, voice even but curious, “
Never had the chance to set foot in Shariq myself, though I’ve heard plenty over the years. Sailors swap stories, merchants spin half-truths, and every port’s got its own version of what the old kingdom was like...”
He let out a low chuckle, “
But I'm getting ahead of myself... What brought you to Inbur, if I may ask?"
Mitunbaal subtly frowned at the mention of sailor's tales of her people's homeland for a mere moment as she took a little dip. "
And such tales turn from half-truths to whole-falsehoods so very quickly."
"
That said, I was attending to research and lectures at the University of Constaninos the Second," she continued, with her half-smile returning to usual. "
Though I did take the opportunity to see some old friends while I was in the city."
"
You’re not wrong there,” Carter admitted with his brow lifted a fraction at her frown, he kept guiding her steady through the dip and back into rhythm.
“
Most of those sailor’s stories are good for passing the night and little else. I’ve seen a dozen brass lamps and clay jugs passed off as treasures from the East too, each one with a story bigger than the last. But I’d wager your word on the matter’s worth more than a thousand such trinkets.”
He drew in a breath, tone softening as he shifted the steps into a gentler sway, “
I’ve flown over Constaninos plenty, seen the University’s spires from above, quite the sight. Always told myself I’d stop in, take a walk through those old halls.”
His mouth quirked faintly to a more melancholic font, “
Guess that chance is gone now, least until the city’s not a battlefield.”
His gaze flicked back to hers, “
I hope your friends made it out safe. Be a hard thing, knowing folk you care for are still caught in that mess... I know some myself."
"
Most evacuated before the communalist advance." Mitunbaal said. "
And God shall guide those who had stayed."
Carter let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, giving her hand the faintest squeeze as they moved through the turn.
“
Glad to hear most made it out,” he said quietly, and it was honest relief. But the words sat heavier on his tongue than he meant them to.
His mind betrayed him for a moment, back to that dockside in lower Inbur, where the Evig men were shouting over one another, trying to haul crates onto the gangway. Then the crack of rifles. The heat as fire caught on canvas. His crew scattering like startled sheep, some screaming, some just running. Carter had wanted to bark orders, drag them toward safety, but instinct had driven him the other way. Grabbed the Harlan, and ran. By the time he clambered up into the belly of this zeppelin, Zoe and Arkadios were already there, the whole city collapsing behind them.
He wondered, not for the first time, if one of those homes sacked in the chaos belonged to a friend of hers. The thought gnawed bitterly, but he shut it down, swallowing the guilt as he guided her through another step.
Realizing he’d gone quiet, Carter shook himself and let a wry smile creep back,“
Maybe, when we do find someplace safe, you might think on headin’ to the Main. You’d have no shortage of folks keen to hear what you’ve got to say, and it’s a sight more stable than Inbur these days. Passage would be yours if you wanted it.”
"
My people have lost their homes once before, sir," Mitunbaal replied. There was barely subdued rage in her eyes, hidden behind calm words and a neutral expression.
Carter caught the subdued fire in her eyes and felt his words falter. He didn’t press, didn’t try to soften her stance with another line. Instead, he gave a small nod, the kind a man gives when he knows he’s brushed against something that cuts deep.
“
You’re right,” he said, his voice apologetic, "
Your people’ve had to fight for what’s theirs before so I understand if your wishes are to stay, wasn't my intention to offend.”
He guided her through another step, steady and respectful, no trace of his earlier bravado, “
Truth is, the war’s not mine, I won’t pretend it is. But so long as I’ve got breath and a ship under me, I’ll see you and the others safe to Mitteland. That much I can give.”
A faint smile flickered back, trying to bring back a more optimistic tone, “
Maybe one day, if you ever find yourself in the Main, we might cross paths again. Share a drink and a dance without the world on fire around us.”
No smile rose to greet Carter's glint of a grin as Mitunbaal scowled back at him.
"
Listen to me," she hissed, though her voice was no louder than before. "
And listen closely for you may well learn something."
She still managed to keep step as she continued on.
"
Step upon the cursed land in northern Xak-Shariq, where the Blight had its terrible birth, as I have, and ask the long dead souls buried in that tainted earth if intent had mattered. Ask the Hasikos and the Doges of Calaria then if the fight against the blighted hordes was merely a Shariq matter, that it was something the western realms needn't concern itself over. They certainly thought that it was no concern at the time."
She twirled under the man's arm before concluding. "
The only reply you'll hear from all of is the haunting silence of the dead. Shariq, Calarian, Inburian, Haltian. Jagorsy, Mittelvolk... it did not matter which realm they hailed."
Carter held her gaze, he didn’t flinch at her harsh words. If anything, his step slowed a fraction as though to give the weight of her conviction space to settle between them.
“
You’ve made your point clear,” he said calmly,
“I won’t pretend to argue it down. History’s got its lessons, and Lord knows the dead speak louder than men like me ever could.”
He turned her gently through another sway, though his eyes drifted away for a moment, before turning back to her, “
Where I come from… we told ourselves we’d stay out of Old World wars. That was the belief, 'Not our fight, not our soil.' But I was young, eager, and I signed on when the Commonwealth sent soldiers across the river.”
His jaw tightened slightly, “
I was there when we dropped the first bombs from an Ardellian airship and I’ll never forget it... not the blast, but the silence after. Whole quarter of a city gone, and I knew damn well it wasn’t soldiers we hit. Came home to a hero’s welcome, ribbons and parades, people cheering… but I knew better. Knew the Iktani weren’t beaten, just angrier. We’d only stoked the fire for another war years down the line.”
He looked back at her, the grin gone, replaced by something more subdued. “
That's why I left, worked with the Company and I can count with my hand how many times I've been back... So you’ll forgive me if I tread careful when it comes to calling another people’s fight my own. It doesn’t mean I don’t respect yours, but I will endeavor to make clear I learned what happens when my countrymen go sticking our noses where we don’t belong.”
His grip steadied as he dipped her once more, “
That said… well if fate’s kind, maybe we’ll meet again. I have matters to attend to in the Commonwealth, much as it would pain me to leave your presence."
"
Survival alone is not atonement for your sins, Mister Carter," the shariq bluntly replied. "
I shall pray that you find it in time, wherever the Dawn brings you."
Carter dipped his head slightly at her words, “
You’re right. Survival alone isn’t atonement. For me, that lies with the families of my crew who followed me into fire and never came back. I can’t undo that, but I can try to make their loved ones whole for what was lost.”
The music wound down and he guided her through the last steps, his touch steady,
“
Maybe it’s too late for me to join another fight.”
As the final note faded he didn’t release her hand at once, instead lifting it slightly and bowing his head over it in a gentleman’s gesture, rough but respectful, “
Thank you for the dance, and the lesson.”
He let her hand go with care, stepping back just enough to give her space.
"
The highest thanks you can give to a lesson is to apply its teachings, Mister Carter," Mitunbaal replied before walking off to find her seat again.
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