“So… when you said you don't know, what do you really mean?” Era asked quizzically.

Grey watches the slaves-turned-free men and women as they sing, dance, and enjoy the banquet prepared at the main deck. He took a glance at the pirate queen, sitting on a keg across him, before turning to the wide ocean. He then took a sip off his mug of beer.

“I don't have a place to return to.”

“Then why don't you become a pirate?” Era slapped the table between them, her eyes gleaming.

“I-I don't know a thing about your work.” Grey responded.

“You mean you never heard about us?”

Grey nodded quietly.

“That’s odd. Where did you come from?” Era asked, intriguingly.

Grey blinked and stared at his cup. “I don't know. I can’t remember.”

“Well that’s a problem.” Era shrugged, rolled her eyes and took a sip from her cup.

“Boy, when I saw you whimpering on the dirt back at the island, I immediately thought you’ve got issues… there’s never anyone who dares escape captivity in a slave market! No one except a stupid plump like you! Pffthahahaha!” Era snorted and chugged her mug of beer before signaling for another.

“and as we go along I came to know… one look at your hands and anybody can tell that you don’t know how to fight,” Era pointed at Grey’s unbruised hands. “but more than that it seems you know nothing about yourself too.”

Suddenly, Era’s eyes turned serious and looked at Grey straight in the face, “I’m here to help you out… but you need to do better than ‘I don’t know and I can’t remember.’”

The pirate queen signaled to the guy beside her, the guy pulled a scroll from his bag and handed it over. Era placed the scroll on the table, it's the map of the world.

“Tell me, gold coins.” Era rested her shoulder on the table, “Where is your place in all that?”

Grey looked at the map as if he’s never seen it before. Era looked at him in frustration. “Did that large woman put shit in your head?”

“Here.” Grey pointed at the center of the map.

“That's Sentralia.” Era said surprised. “You don't look like you're from the main city.”

“I need to go here.” His finger pointing at the Cave of Whispers written in the map.

“Oh, boy.” Era sighed and laughed “What did I get myself into?”

---

The sun rises at the border of Sentralia, where the fortress walls stand tall at the bottom of the hills. A huge black stallion rides from the kingdom downhill to the entrance of the fortress.

“The king is here!” one soldier on top of the wall announced as the king’s stallion galloped through the gateway.

“Where is he?” The king asked as he mounted off of his stallion and nonchalantly drops the reins to a nearby squire.

“We found him crawling through the vineyards at the city border.” The soldier answered, “too weak to stand, asking for food, he claims he's the king’s shaman, sire.”

The king scoffed and smirked.

“W~We fed him sire.. gave him water, until yo--” The king slapped the soldier with his backfist, throwing him to a nearby wall.

The king opened the barrack’s wooden door, at the corner, the shaman of Kinan lies on top of a soldier’s bed. King Rickardo smiled widely, he grabbed the shaman by the hair and threw him to the side. The shaman gasped for air as he helplessly rolled on the stone floor.

“How have you been, dear friend?” The king pronounced the last two words with a mocking tone.

The shaman tried to speak but the king grabbed him by the throat and slammed his head back to the ground.

“Whe--re is she, you trai--” The king stomped his foot on the shaman’s gut before he could finish his sentence.

“You shouldn't have survived… but now that you are here, I'd like to confirm something.” King Rickardo smiles as he speak, “You've felt it did you? In fact it's all written on that pathetic chest of yours. It gives you strength. I bet it's the only thing that’s keeping you alive now.” The king pulls out a shiny knife from his boot and gently pierced the white runes on the shaman’s chest, a drop of blood escaped the shaman's dark skin. He then pulled his knife and licked the blood on its tip.

“Aaahhhhh…” the king sighed while his eyes rolled back, “yes… yes… one of them…” the king starts to giggle, he then gripped his knife and stabbed the shaman by the throat. The shaman lets out a voiceless wail as his last breath escaped him.

“Just as I thought!” The king said.