“Forty-nine… fifty!” Amelia finished her last set of push-ups and sat up. It felt so good to move her body! How many years had it been since she’d done a push-up? Or a squat? Was exercise always this enjoyable? Those foolish demons, they thought these thick chains on her hands and legs would restrict her! Ha! Rather, they’d given her ample opportunity for some resistance training!

  She was amazed at how her game character’s high base stats and ward translated into such strength and endurance. Amelia could tell the chains on her were heavy, no doubt designed to seriously slow down any movement or escape attempt; however, she found it remarkably easy to move around.

  Being this strong after so many years of being weak made her feel like she was drunk. Perhaps she was drunk on power? Either way, her imprisonment did nothing to reduce her enjoyment of this new life.

  Her cell was no more than a two-metre-by-two-metre box of iron bars that extended from the floor to the ceiling. It was one of a line of cells that were arranged in the centre of this deck of the ship, but Amelia’s was the only one occupied. Hundreds of cargo crates and barrels lined the walls, with just enough space left for the demons to walk around and between the cells.

  And leaning on these very crates were the two demons that had manhandled her so aggressively! They had thrown her hard enough against the bars that she was sure she might have broken something if she had been a normal human being!

  But, a normal human being was something she very much wasn’t! She was Amelia Thornheart, the top-ranked dreadmage of the Blacksteel Crusaders! What player had spent sleepless nights slaughtering thousands of archangels to be the first to finish that collection log? She did! What player had the most solo speedrun records for the Abyssal Dungeons? Her!

  If anything, the iron bars were the ones in danger of being broken and she would definitely be complaining about her experience to the captain! She should start by giving these two a piece of her mind and-

  Ah, what were they saying?

  “Sorry, what was that?” Amelia bounced up to the iron bars.

  The two male demons were ridiculously muscular. If her current body was accurate to the height she chose in character creation, then these two, who stood more than a head over her, would be about seven feet! Their hulking figures were strapped with breastplates and leather. Holstered in their belts was a sword and some kind of firearm. They were both bald, with deep orange eyes set under a thick brow and above a square jaw. Their skin was marbled with black, grey, and red in a similar pattern to the uniform of a modern military from her old world.

  Each wore a set of heavy curled horns, similar to those found on a ram.

  The demons from the game world didn’t quite look like this. Other than herself and her magic, most of the things she had already experienced seemed to indicate this world was very different from the game she played in the hospital.

  “Cap’n gunna make toothpicks of your bones, human,” one of them said to her with a grin consisting of chunky white teeth. “Ain’t that right, Dagon?”

  “Right you are, Tomes,” said Dagon, flashing her his own grin. “You ’member the last one she broke? Hung him up from the starboard sail.”

  “Used him for target practice we did, didn’t we Dagon?”

  Dagon nodded, smirking at her. “Screamed all night he did, didn’t he Tomes?”

  “That awful howling. Kept the entire crew up all night it did, didn’t it Dagon?”

  “Truer words never spoken! Cap’n kept his skull to drink her wine fr-“

  “Wait a minute!” Amelia interrupted. “She tortured someone all night? Kept you all awake?”

  Dagon spat on the ground, his forehead furrowing in annoyance. “Damn straight, little human, exactly what’s gonna happen to you.”

  Amelia wasn’t buying it. She crossed her arms and asked, “The captain made her entire crew, which operates a military ship, go an entire night without sleep!? Huh!?” The demons paused at that and Amelia took that as a sign to push the attack. “Hrmmph! Sounds like someone’s a terrible captain! Or maybe… maybe you’re just trying to scare me with your exaggerated and made-up tales, hmm!?”

  Dagon looked stupefied; his mouth opened in response, but nothing came out. It was Tomes who spoke next, his eyes darkening.

  “Exaggeration or not, little human, the captain really does torture and hang those that endanger her or her crew, and you…” He punctuated with a finger jab. “Are a threat. If you tell her everything you know, she’ll give you a quick death. Seven hells, if you’re extra cooperative, she might even dump you on an island somewhere. She-”

  “Tomes. Dagon,” a cool voice intoned from the shadows.

  The captain stepped forward. By head height, she was shorter than the other two, although her horns just about made up the difference. The captain’s eyes were fixed on her, and her arm rested on her sheathed sword.

  It was easier to see in the dim lighting, but the captain’s skin emitted a subtle red glow. You would miss it if you weren’t looking for it. Was this aura? If it was, did it function the same way it did in the game?

  Amelia raised her chained hands and gave her a little wave.

  “Hello,” she whispered.

  “Any troubles?” the captain asked her two subordinates.

  “No, Cap’n!” they both exclaimed in unison.

  “Just recounting to our little spy here ‘bout that cutthroat that snuck on board last moon,” Dagon explained. “Don’t think she quite realises what situation she’s in. Want me to smack her around a bit?”

  The captain didn’t reply immediately and kept her eyes locked with Amelia’s. What was she thinking? She did seem a little… calmer. Maybe she’d had second thoughts about her employment!?

  “Tomes. A word.”

  “Yes, Cap’n!”

  Tomes stood up and followed the captain away down the line of cells while keeping an eye on Amelia.

  She then realised that not once, from the moment she was thrown into this cell, and even now with Tomes and the captain walking away, and even now with Dagon watching her…

  Did any of them ever remove a hand from one of their weapons.

  Serena walked Tomes to the end of the cells, as far away from the human as she could be while still keeping her in sight.

  “How did it go?” she said in hushed tones.

  Tomes took out a pair of neat spectacles and slid them up his nose, responding in an equally low voice. “Something's not right here, Captain. I’ve been at war long enough to know how humans react to us, and I know what a frightened human looks like, and Captain, she ain’t frightened. She might have twigged me and Dagon are playing dumb.”

  “Anathor and I think she might be a Speaker.”

  “Captain!” Tomes blurted out, starting to move back, pulling out his firearm, only stopping when Serena grabbed his arm.

  “Wait!” she hissed. Tomes was one of the smartest soldiers she had ever had the privilege of commanding, but he always had a blind spot in rationality when it came to his sworn battle-brother, Dagon. “She hasn’t done anything yet, right?”

  Tomes didn’t look back at her; instead, he focused on the human in the cell. “Not yet. Captain, if she can Speak then those chains and bars aren’t going to stop her.” Tomes's eyes widened and he faced her, his face going white. “Seven hells, Captain, the munitions!”

  Below this deck was the munitions hold, where several thousand four-inch shells lay sitting, patiently waiting to greet the Republic. They were sailing heavy in anticipation of the upcoming bombardment, but this preparation was a double-edged sword, and an unknown human Speaker added a domain of risk Serena never thought she would deal with on the Vengeance.

  “I have Anathor directing the crew. We’re moving them as we speak. The deck armor is strong, Tomes. Besides, she’s indicated she’s from a healing branch. If she only knows the First-Word from one of those, we'll be fine.”

  If she had to Speak, her martial Word would dominate the human healing one.

  Tomes was silent for a moment. “Anathor told you she could cast a defensive spell, right?”

  “Yes. A ward-spell. She probably cloaked it so…”

  “So we can’t just shoot her in the head when she's distracted?”

  “Afraid not, and believe me, Tomes, if she’s a danger I’ll do what needs to be done to protect this crew, but…” She trailed off, causing Tomes to look at her with a quizzical expression. “…Remember, the ship spoke to Anathor; it doesn’t consider her a threat.”

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “Is he sure he understood the ship correctly? It’s not exactly speaking modern Imperial to us, is it?”

  “He seems confident.”

  “Well then, ship hasn’t done us dirty yet, has it?” Tomes removed his spectacles, cleaning them with a bit of cloth before putting them away. He shrugged his shoulders and sighed. “We about to get friendly with a human Speaker then, captain?”

  Serena felt herself grimace. “I’d rather not, although I have a gut feeling.”

  “A gut feeling?”

  “That she might be... alright.”

  Serena’s instincts - honed by years of war and enhanced by her divine communion - hadn’t failed her yet.

  Tomes shook his head. “Korvus will never accept that. He’ll try to kill her.”

  “Anathor is keeping Korvus distracted. I don’t want him knowing of her existence until the battle ends.” Korvus was almost certainly going to be a problem. If she wasn’t Speaker herself, then controlling her best storm-trooper would be impossible.

  “How are we approaching this? We got a plan to find out if she’s a Speaker or not?”

  “I, not we. You and Dagon will go help move the rest of the munitions. As for the method…” Serena’s hand went to her pocket, her fingers delicately touching the small box she’d collected from her quarters. “I’ll just ask her,” she said with a tone of finality.

  “If she says no?”

  “I’ll stab her proportionally to how smug she’s being. Find out if she’s really a healer.”

  “If she says yes?”

  “Might just stab her anyway.” She clicked her tongue. “Let’s go.”

  Serena walked back to Dagon who seemed to be recounting the tale of when she’d 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 to 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. 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 leaned 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.

  “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 then fished out 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, 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 she was paying 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 now, 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 would always tactfully pause and let silences linger a little too long. It was an interrogation tactic to extract more information, as well as maintain a perception of control. Although every time this human opened her mouth she felt 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.

  “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. 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, and started twisting the aether inside her, 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 Anathema scripture!? 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 was… 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.

  Serena felt herself blink twice at that. She slowly sheathed her cutlass, 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?” 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 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.

  “For salary negotiations, of course.”