"The man" was drunk. Not "a little tipsy." Not "had one too many." He was dead to the world, may have been booted from the establishment, and definitely won't remember this tomorrow, drunk.
"Captain Nabal," Evander introduced the drunkard as though he were awake and present for their meeting. "Come on, I know where he'll be staying." He then managed to rouse the drunkard enough from his resting place in the alley outside The Jaunty Old Pub to walk him, or rather practically carry him, to what appeared to be his rooms at The Jaunty Old Inn next to the pub. The lobby was tidy, but small, almost too small for all three of them to fit comfortably. The lady at the desk let out a small snort of disapproval upon their entry, but made no move to stop them from dragging the man up the stairs.
The room was also small but decent, with a large bed in the middle that had been unsurprisingly left unmade. The blankets and the drapes were a deep red with black swirls and brocades. As she helped Evander get this "captain" into bed, she noted that the mattress was surprisingly soft for a mattress in a commoner's establishment. She'd only been in a few but always found them stiff and uncomfortable. At least Nabal would be comfortable while he recovered, she supposed.
It took hours for the captain to be even remotely coherent, at which point he had some recognition of Evander before nodding off once more. Mina couldn't imagine being so intoxicated. It didn't sound like a fun thing to do at all. The worst part for her was the smell. This man wasn't fully human, but human enough, and the combination of human sweat and alcohol threatened to turn her stomach more than once.
"Van, is that you?" the man eventually croaked out. "You've grown so much."
"Yeah, it's me." He replied somewhat sheepishly. "It has been almost six years."
"Of course, of course." The man sat up with an odd look on his face and Van appeared with a bedpan. The stench of sick filled the air as the captain retched into it. Mina had finally hit her breaking point. She held her face with the sleeve of her shirt, fighting the urge to vacate the room. When he finally stopped, as if he'd never been interrupted by waves of putrid vomit, he said, "You look even more like your mother. I'm so sorry I couldn't help her."
"It's not your fault she got sick," Evander assured him. This man had gotten out of prison only to find out his mother was dead and he had no prospects. No wonder he was willing to risk his life to attempt to become the wielder. Mina pushed down her desire to vomit herself and approached Evander to place her hand on his shoulder. She squeezed gently and he looked up at her, wearing a soft, sad expression.
"I should have looked harder," Nabal insisted. "She was my great love, after all. Speaking of, who is this?"
"This is Mina…Mina Aldebrand. She's my wife." He stated simply. Then he became more serious and said, "You have to promise me all of this stays between us."
"Yes, boy, of course. On your mother's name, I swear it." The captain replied.
"She's Mina of Sapphire, the queen. I'm the new wielder. We've just come from getting married, which was interrupted by the darkness, and now we're on the run to find a sword master in Chrysanthos named Egon Schwert to train me." The words all tumbled out of him before she could stop him. It was obvious that he trusted this man, but Mina didn't know him.
"That's quite a story. Mina, the queen? Are you pulling my leg?" The old sailor was finally gaining some color back to his face as he sat looking quite miserable, propped by the pillows on the bed.
"I assure you, I am not." Van doubled down. "This is life or death, my friend."
"Well, Queen Mina and King Evander, I guess we ought to get to the Amalthea and get you to Chysanthos." He slapped his legs to punctuate his resolve and started to try to stand, still quite wobbly.
"Amalthea?" Evander asked, the surprise written all over his face.
"Yes. I had her rechristened after your mother's death. Two most important things in my life: your mother and my ship." The man's voice cracked as he said it, but he shook his head and pulled himself together quickly. "The least I could do is help you on your journey."
They made their way through the narrow hallways of the inn back to reception, where Nabal returned his keys and offered an ill-received apology. He then pulled some coins from his pockets and placed them on the rough wood of the desk. This gesture was better received. With everything squared away, they pushed out into the alleyway.
The streets of Pontus were busy. You couldn't take more than a few steps without getting jostled by other pedestrians or being called to by peddlers and shop owners to try out their wares. It was joyful in a way. Bright and lively like nothing that Mina had ever seen. She'd been to Pontus once before, but it had been nothing like this. The streets were clear, and the people were wary of them as they passed through to one of the royal ships for her mother's funeral. It was a sad affair that didn't suit the Pontus she was seeing now.
Poor Val had his work cut out for him. He had to police his drunk friend and make sure she wasn't pulled in by every kind face selling pretty or interesting things on the side of the road. It was good that he was holding the money. As they walked, the things being sold shifted towards fish and imports when they got closer to the docks. The people in the booths also became more varied, as they were from places all over the world. Then she saw her, the Amalthea, name scrawled in beautiful letters on both sides of the aft, siren perched on the bow, and the beautiful white sails draped with ropes and rigging. She floated effortlessly in the gulf, only a short boat ride from the docks.
"She's beautiful," Mina said quietly, still taking in every detail. "Captain Nabal, how exactly did you come by such a formidable ship?"
"Casper, miss. Please call me Casper." He tipped his head to her in respect before continuing. "I won her. A long, long time ago in a different land." His voice was full of nostalgia.
"Lucky win." She murmured, accepting Evander's hand when climbing into the dinghy they had come to. The small boat rocked gently as she stepped in. Casper gestured for her to sit at the front of the little boat while Evander insisted on rowing, due to the captain's condition. They were at the ship in what seemed like no time at all.
"Now, some of my men do know Evander, but we have to decide what to call you." The captain said quietly as the dinghy was hauled up to the ship's deck. She could hear the men on the deck calling out every time they pulled the boat up in unison.
"How about Violet?" She offered. "It was my mother's name, obviously, and my father had a tendency to accidentally call me Violet when I was younger. It's something I'll respond to."
"Alright, Violet Aldebrand, let's go meet my crew."