Days turned into weeks on the merchant ship.
Lucius threw himself into the work, learning everything he could about life as a merchant. He helped load and unload heavy crates, scrubbed the deck until his hands bled and cracked, tied thick ropes until his fingers cramped and ached, and stood watch during long, cold nights when the wind howled across the open sea. He listened carefully when the older merchants spoke about trade routes, bargaining tricks, how to read the wind and waves, and which ports were safe versus dangerous.
But no matter how hard he worked, the days felt heavy and empty.
Dave still barely spoke to him.
The boy did his small tasks without complaint — carrying light supplies, helping sort goods, staying close when told — but he never smiled. He never called him "Brother Lucius" with warmth anymore. Their conversations were short, necessary, and cold. At night, Dave curled up on the far side of their small shared space, back turned, as if Lucius was nothing more than a stranger he was forced to travel with.
Lucius carried the silence like a second shadow. Every quiet moment reminded him of the confession in the inn room — the way Dave had screamed, "I hate you!" with tears streaming down his face. The guilt never left him. It sat in his chest like a stone, growing heavier with each passing day.
One morning, instead of waking to the usual blinding sunlight streaming through the porthole, Lucius opened his eyes to a gloomy, oppressive sky. Dark clouds hung low and heavy, swallowing the horizon. The air felt thick and charged, matching the storm brewing inside his own heart.
His thoughts were interrupted by loud shouting from above deck.
He sat up quickly and glanced at Dave, who was still sleeping curled up in the corner. The boy looked so small and innocent, his face peaceful in sleep. Lucius's chest tightened with fresh guilt.
"I cursed all of this…" he whispered to himself.
After one last look at Dave, he climbed the ladder to the main deck.
The moment he stepped out, the wind hit him like a wall. It howled across the ship, whipping his cloak and making the sails strain violently against their ropes. The sea was already churning, waves growing taller and angrier with every passing minute. Dark clouds rolled overhead like living things, and distant thunder rumbled ominously.
Before Lucius could fully take in the scene, Captain Harlan's voice cut through the wind.
"Lucius! Get over here! A storm is coming, bigger than anything I've seen in years! We need every hand!"
"Sure, Captain!" Lucius shouted back, already running toward the direction Harlan pointed.
When he reached the group of sailors struggling with the sails, he heard their voices over the growing gale.
"What can that Lucius even do here?" one man grumbled. "He's too thin. The captain keeps him on board for what? Pity?"
"Tell me about it," another added. "He does a few chores and thinks he's one of us."
"What if he's a bad person?" a third man said. "That kid looks like he hates him. It really looks like he kidnapped the boy."
"But I feel he is dangerous," the fourth sailor added, voice trembling. "One night, I saw him sitting in the dark. When I locked eyes with him… it felt like he wanted to take my soul."
Lucius stepped forward, voice cutting through the storm.
"Just because I don't talk much and don't behave like you guys doesn't mean you can gossip about me behind my back."
The sailors jumped. Their faces paled as they turned to see him standing there, cloak whipping wildly in the wind.
"The captain said I should help," Lucius continued. "What am I supposed to do?"
Before anyone could answer, the storm struck with full force.
A massive wave crashed against the side of the ship, tilting it dangerously to the left. Men shouted as they lost their footing. Rain began to pour in blinding sheets. The wind screamed like a living beast, tearing at the sails and threatening to rip them apart.
"Secure the sails!" Captain Harlan roared. "Tie everything down! We're going to lose the mast!"
Lucius grabbed a thick rope and fought against the wind, muscles burning as he helped pull the flapping canvas under control. The ship groaned and tilted again as another huge wave slammed into them. Water flooded the deck, sweeping men off their feet and sending crates sliding dangerously toward the edge.
"Hold on!" someone screamed.
The ship lurched violently. Lucius lost his grip for a terrifying moment, hanging by one hand as the world spun around him. Men shouted in panic. Crates smashed into the railing. The ship was moments away from capsizing.
Lightning cracked across the sky, followed by deafening thunder. The main mast creaked ominously, the sails tearing under the force of the wind. Another massive wave hit, and the ship tilted so sharply that half the deck was underwater.
Lucius knew he had no choice, he had to try if his ablity would work on the ship.
He let a controlled burst of his dark energy flow through his hands to reverse the worst of the damage. The torn sails mended slightly under his power. The tilting ship groaned and slowly righted itself. The flooding slowed as broken planks realigned and water was pushed back out through the hull.
The sailors stared in shock and awe as the immediate danger passed.
Lucius climbed down the rigging, drenched and exhausted, his body trembling from the effort of holding back the full force of his power. His ribs burned, his hands were raw, and a wave of dizziness washed over him.
Captain Harlan grabbed his shoulder, eyes wide with disbelief. "You… you just saved us. That sail should have torn completely. The ship should have gone down. How did you—"
Lucius cut him off, breathing hard. "Just luck, Captain. Let's get the ship stable."
The storm raged for hours more, but thanks to Lucius's quiet intervention, the ship survived. When the winds finally died down and the rain eased into a steady drizzle, the crew looked at him differently with a mix of gratitude, awe, and quiet unease.
As the sun broke through the clouds late that afternoon, the ship sailed on, battered but intact.
Lucius stood at the railing, watching the horizon, his body aching and his mind heavy.
Dave approached slowly, stopping a few feet away. He didn't speak, but his eyes held a new mix of fear and reluctant respect.
Lucius turned to him, voice soft.
"I told you I'd keep you safe," he said quietly. "Even if you hate me."
Dave looked away, but for the first time in days, he didn't walk away immediately.
The ship continued west, carrying a broken trust, a guilty hero, and a silent child toward whatever waited ahead.
But as night fell and Lucius lay awake in the dark, listening to Dave's quiet breathing, he realised the storm they had just survived was nothing compared to the one still raging between them.
Then, in the silence, Dave's small voice broke through the darkness — soft, trembling, and filled with raw pain:
"…If you're really the reason my family is gone… then why do I still want you to protect me?"
The words hung in the air like a blade.
Lucius froze, unable to answer.
For the first time, he understood that the real danger wasn't the King's bounty or the shadow inside him.
It was the boy lying just a few feet away — the one whose trust he had shattered… and the one he couldn't bear to lose.