Gunmage

The moment those words were spoken, Lugh's mind went utterly still.

Options.

He needed options.

His breath hitched—only for an instant. Panic was a luxury he couldn't afford. Slowly, deliberately, he raised his hands, fingers splayed to show he held no weapons.

The cold weight of the pistol he'd stolen pressed against his ribs beneath his clothes. A liability. One misstep, and it could cost him everything.

He resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder. Assess, don't react. If the soldier was competent, the shot was already lined up. A twitch in the wrong direction could be fatal.

Think, Lugh. Think.

A direct confrontation was out of the question. But hesitation had its own dangers.

He forced himself to breathe unevenly, exhaling in shaky, ragged gasps—the sound of someone terrified. Let them believe he was just another starving stowaway who had bitten off more than he could chew.

A trembling voice—his own, but carefully measured—escaped his lips.

"I... I was just looking for food."

It wasn't a lie. And his act was flawless. It had to be, he'd spent the last 10 years honing it to perfection.

The silence behind him stretched, taut as a tripwire. Then—the shuffle of boots. A shift in stance, and he was immediately restrained.

Captain Veyland–a seasoned naval officer–emerged from his office at the sound of the commotion, his sharp blue eyes scanning the gathered soldiers. The report from his subordinate had drawn him out. Below, his crew surrounded a lone figure.

A heated debate broke out. Throw him overboard. That was the simplest solution. But others hesitated.

"He's just a kid."

Yet, the very fact that he was a child only heightened the unease. His presence on board was a glaring anomaly, especially once the current location was considered.

Tales of shape-shifting monsters weren't folklore—they were born of genuine fear.

Veyland studied the boy on the floor, face pressed against the cold steel deck. He was small, frail-looking, but something in his posture felt... wrong.

"Hey, kid."

The boy twitched but didn't look up.

"Who are you?" Veyland's voice was firm, measured and oddly familiar. A trait that was likely to resonate with the crew

The boy hesitated. A flicker of calculation crossed his face before he finally answered.

"My name is Lugh."

A pause.

"What are you?"

This time, silence. Lugh's face remained unreadable. However the 14-year-old was certainly befuddled

'What sort of a question was that?'

Veyland narrowed his eyes. A thought stirred in his mind.

"Do you have any idea where you are?"

Another pause. Then, without waiting for an answer—

"You're in the Devil Sea."

Lugh's head snapped up, his eyes widening in genuine shock.

"Wait—what?!"

Veyland watched as realization settled in. The waters previously just eerie, now seemed infinitely more terrifying.

The captain issued his next order without hesitation.

"Untie him. Bring him to my cabin."

There was a moment of stunned silence before the soldiers obeyed.

The Captain's Cabin

Lugh sat stiffly in the chair across from the captain, his hands resting tensely on his lap. The warm glow of the cabin's lanterns cast flickering shadows across the walls.

A spyglass rested on the desk between them, inscribed with the words:

"To see is to know. To know is to act."

Veyland leaned back, appraising the boy now that he was fully illuminated. Flaxen hair. Red eyes. A mixed blood.

He exhaled through his nose.

"How did you get in?"

Lugh hesitated—just long enough to appear uncertain, but not long enough to be suspicious.

"Storage hold."

Veyland's expression remained unreadable, but something flickered behind his eyes. A reaction Lugh caught instantly.

Now what could he possibly be worried about? Lugh wondered. The captain definitely had bigger concerns than a stowaway. There were, after all, spies, actively planning to sabotage the fleet. A piece of information Lugh planned to give him sooner than later.

Lugh's initial skepticism had greatly waned by now. The phrase "cursed waters" finally clicked – the Devil Sea. 

Suddenly, their mission seemed even more insane. Surviving a casual sail through this sea was a historical impossibility. Perhaps an Elder from beyond the Rift would soon pay a visit, or they'd be swallowed whole by a fallen angel from the legends.

The more he considered it, the more incomprehensible the whole endeavor became. What was the kingdom thinking, dedicating so much manpower and resources to a suicidal mission?

Lugh felt resentful. It seemed he had really bitten the bullet this time.

"So...Lugh, why are you here"

The captain's voice filled the room

The young lad inhaled deeply, feigning sadness before speaking

"My father died in the war"

He remained silent after this, leaving them to come up with their own assumptions. Most of which were bound to be inaccurate.

Silence. Then—

"Did I forget to mention...?"

Lugh tilted his head slightly.

"I'm a spy from Heieg."

The reaction was instantaneous.

The guards tensed, hands shifting toward their weapons. The air in the room thickened with hostility.

Veyland's expression, however, remained utterly unchanged.

Lugh ignored the wary glances and continued, voice flat.

"I can give you information if you guarantee my life."

Silence.

Then, a scoff.

"A fourteen-year-old spy, caught stealing food?" Veyland leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. His voice was calm, but the amusement in his eyes was forced.

"Stop talking nonsense, kid."

Lugh shrugged.

"Believe me or not. It's your choice."

The soldiers noticed it now. The strange cadence in his voice. The odd rhythm to his speech. His accent.

They didn't understand the words he just spoke, but they recognized the language.

Heiro.

The mother tongue of the enemy.

Veyland's fingers tapped idly against the wooden desk. He was watching. Calculating.

"You said you have information?"

"Yes." Lugh nodded. Controlled. Unshaken.

A wave of Veyland's hand dismissed the others, leaving them alone.

Smart choice.

"Out with it."

"There are others like me."

A beat of silence.

"At least two aboard this ship. I don't know who they are, but it's only a matter of time before they cause some serious damage."

Lugh kept his expression carefully neutral, but with this, his objective was complete.

In such a situation, believing a selfish enemy was far more rational than trusting an uncertain ally.

This was his line of thought when he proclaimed himself a spy, a sound strategy by all means but ... something was off.

Veyland hadn't reacted. Not once.

No flicker of surprise. No calculation. No suspicion.

Then—

"I never thought I'd find a traitor in a place like this."

Lugh's stomach dropped.

Heiro.

The words were spoken in fluent Heiro.

Veyland continued speaking in the foreign language while his hand moved towards his revolver.

"Tell me, child..."

His voice was low now. Measured. Cold.

"Why do you side with these heretics?"