She clicked her tongue. “Let’s go.”

Serena walked back to Dagon who seemed to be recounting the tale of when Serena had hung some thieves that were selling off cargo behind her back. Those thieves, who had been demon mercenaries she hired, seemed to have been replaced in Dagon’s retelling as a band of human women.

“…And then, the cap’n took a fire poker and heated it until it was as red as the Red Moon itself, and then—ah Cap’n, you’re back!”

“Your brother has a job for you. Go to him.”

“Yes, Cap’n,” Dagon hurried past her, and as he did so, he fixed his eyes on hers.

Careful, he mouthed.

She gave him a subtle nod in return.

Serena looked at her captive. This one was tall for a human; her blond hair was more golden than any she had seen before, and her bright blue eyes seemed to almost sparkle. Didn’t humans from Karligard look like this? But if she was from there, why did she speak Imperial with a flawless Centralis accent?

Everything about her appearance seemed to be trying to declare, ‘I’m cute and innocent.’

The human’s button nose wrinkled as she scratched it.

Moons, this human really pissed her off.

“Enjoying Dagon’s stories?” she asked, keeping her expression and voice neutral.

“A bit,” the human chirped, leaning forward. “According to him, you hang and/or torture everyone who looks at you funny. Ever thought you'd catch more flies with honey?”

Serena watched the woman closely.

The psychological battle had already begun.

However, was her captive even playing?

“What does that mean? That expression?” she asked, pulling a crate and then a barrel in front of the cell as an impromptu table and chair. Barrels, in her experience, made excellent seats which you could leap from quickly when attacked. As she sat, she kept her aura red, ensuring she was ready to push it into the more powerful colours if the human did anything suspicious.

“Hmm? Oh, you don’t…” The human raised a finger, placing it under her chin. “It means you can get more people to your side by being nice and offering something rather than being forceful.”

Serena had already figured out the meaning behind the previously unheard expression; she was just trying to keep the human talking. The earliest stages of an interrogation were the most risky, where the captive was most likely to clam up.

“And if you’re the fly on my ship, what honey are you looking for?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m sorry about this, you know?” The human rubbed the back of her head, looking to the side, taking her eyes off Serena and her sword arm.

Ignorant. Or fearless, Serena thought. The human was certainly a mage, but it was as if she had no experience being around warriors. Did she not know how dangerous it was to let an expert of the sword like Serena get so close? Or did she not think she was a threat at all? Tomes had been right; this woman wasn’t reacting to a crew of demons like she should.

Who the hell was this idiot?

“Sorry about what?” Serena asked.

“Turning up like this, on your ship. It honestly wasn’t my intention. I—”

“A moment.” Serena put a hand up and fished the small box from her pocket. She opened the box, revealing a rotating blue crystal shining lightly.

“This is an Axiom Crystal. It will record our conversation.” Serena did not mention the other, smaller crystal embedded in the side of the box, which was positioned so that only she could see it. As captain of a military vessel, she only had access to one of these and using it meant she would have to fill out no small amount of paperwork, but the circumstances warranted its use. “Now, if we start again, did you intentionally board my ship?”

“No.”

Serena kept her eyes on the human, but paid equal attention with her peripheral vision to the colour of the smaller crystal.

Green.

“Through what method did you board my ship?”

“I…don’t know.”

Green.

What was she supposed to make of this? A human, unknowingly and unintentionally, somehow found her way into her quarters? Was one of the Fell Gods playing a joke on her?

She would have to approach this another way.

“What is your real name?”

“Amelia Thornheart. Pleased to meet you.”

Green.

“Where did you come from, Amelia?”

“…The hospital.” A fleeting moment of sadness flashed across Amelia’s face. Serena remembered everything Anathor had said about the girl. She would watch and remember every word, looking for the slightest inconsistency.

“Why were you in the hospital?”

“I was dying…I was getting better, but…it takes many years to cure what I had, and not everyone survives…but I’m better now!” Amelia tapped her chest, her mouth forming a happy smile. “And if it comes back, I can just heal it again with my magic!”

Serena paused. She always tactfully paused and let silences linger a little too long. This was an interrogation tactic to extract more information and maintain a perception of control, although every time this human opened her mouth, she felt like she was the one losing control.

“What…affliction did you have?”

“Chronic Endothelial Collapse Syndrome.” Amelia's happy expression vanished as she spat these words out. For the first time, Serena saw an emotion she’d seen many times in the humans of the liberated territories.

Hatred.

But this time it wasn’t aimed at her.

“What are the symptoms and causes?”

“A spontaneous disease marked by rapid deterioration of the endothelial cells lining the blood vessels, resulting in systemic circulatory failure.” Amelia ground her teeth, her fists balling tight. “That’s the textbook definition anyway. Heard it a thousand times over the years. No one knows where it comes from…”

She’s educated. Serena took a mental note. A noble? But Anathor said she couldn’t even recognise High Imperial writing, despite speaking it flawlessly. Even if she had been educated in one of the human nations, she would have been able to identify the script of the Empire.

“Is it contagious?”

“No.”

“Why did you not use magic to cure it?”

“It…wasn’t an option.”

Questions upon questions. The green light informed Serena she wasn't being told lies, at least, not knowingly. Truth-tellers weren’t infallible; if you were careful with your answers you could give half-truths that would be reported as truths, although this human didn’t seem to be trying such deception.

“You were cured by non-magical means?”

“I…maybe?” Amelia gave a little shrug.

“Your body is healthy. You do not have the appearance of someone who has spent a long period fighting an affliction, what—”

Serena closed her mouth. Here was a healthy person, somehow not knowing how they were cured. It didn't add up.

Something Anathor had suggested suddenly flashed in her mind.

Her mind connected the dots to reach an incredibly unlikely conclusion. A question formed that needed to be asked, one she never thought she would have to ask anyone, whether demon or human.

“Amelia, is the body you are in now the same one that suffered this affliction?”

Amelia’s eyes locked with hers, a solitary tear running down her cheek.

“…No.”

Green.

A darkblade! A lifecheater! A heretic! Serena leapt up, drawing her cutlass, starting to twist her aether, letting it froth and layer upon itself, the pressure and heat building up, as she felt the First-Word forming, felt it want to be Spoken. Anathor would sense what she was doing and warn the rest of the crew, but first, she would seek confirmation!

“Did you knowingly transfer your soul into another body!? Answer me!”

“N-no!” Amelia’s eyes widened with panic. “I didn’t know that was possible!”

“Are you a darkblade!?”

“I don’t know what that is!”

“Do you follow the scripture of Anathema!? Are you a heretic!?”

“No!” The human threw up her hands, which almost made Serena reflexively attack. “I’m not even religious! Will you calm down!? Stop being so hot-headed! You’ll blow us out of the sky if you Speak!”

Amelia was glaring at her now.

They stared at each other for a few seconds. Serena clicked her tongue. Damn this entire situation! What was this human? Why did she look upon her as if she were…a friend admonishing another friend?

“Amelia, do you plan any harm upon me, the crew, or the ship?”

“I don’t!”

“Even though we are of demonkind? Waging war against the rebellious Republic?”

“I like demons!” Amelia shouted as if declaring some important, long-withheld news.

Green.

What the hell?

Serena felt herself blink twice at that. She slowly sheathed her sword, sitting back down on the barrel. She took a slow breath, cooling her aether down but keeping it simmering, just in case.

It was time for another difficult question.

“Are you...a Speaker of the Words?” Serena asked. When she saw the human visibly gulp, she knew the answer before it came.

“…Yeah. I can speak the First-Word of a healing branch.”

This was definitely going to be a headache! A human Speaker on her ship right before battle! But…there was potential there. Could Serena manage it?

First, she needed more information.

“How many years have you lived across any and all bodies your soul has inhabited?”

“…Twenty-five.”

“Tsk!” Serena clicked her tongue. Amelia wasn’t lying! Twenty-five and a Speaker! What awful talent had she stumbled upon! She had to make sure. “Could you prepare to Speak now without fully forming the Word? As proof of this claim?”

“Uh, sure. But I’ve never Spoken in this body. Give me a moment.” Amelia’s eyes became unfocused and then started to shine. Light flowed from her body, brightening up the dark deck; hues of aetheric blue and gold danced from her skin, and Serena saw, in the eyes of that human, the depth and breadth of the ancient power waiting, wanting to be released.

It was beautiful.

“Stop,” she commanded, and Amelia obliged, her radiant body dimming and her eyes becoming focused again. Serena took out a key. “Come here,” she said. Amelia came closer, pressing her cheeks between the bars. Serena unlocked the chains on her, and they fell to the deck floor with a thud.

“I have never had a human Speaker on this ship,” she said, watching Amelia closely. “And I have never had a human Speaker be non-hostile. I can only request that you forgive me for the way you have been treated. As a Speaker of the Words and in accordance with international law, you are entitled to a level of dignity you will now be afforded.”

With another click of a lock, the cell door opened with a whine.

The human looked up at her, only stepping out when Serena gestured.

“However,” she continued. “Keep the matter of your…new body a secret. You seem wholly ignorant of too many things, and that’s dangerous.” She jabbed at Amelia with her finger. “In fact, don’t talk to anyone but me, Anathor, and my Trusted: Dagon and Tomes—the latter is our bookkeeper and quartermaster and is the one you’ll need to converse with. I’ll take you to his office now.”

“Sure! Why do I need to have a conversation with him?”

“Well…” Serena said, peering down at Amelia.

The human had already offered her services, hadn’t she?

“For salary negotiations, of course.”