The Heir Who Wouldn’t Drown
Copyright© 2026 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 4: A Borrowed Face
The Logbook laid out Julian’s abilities and circumstances clearly enough for him to settle quickly on a course.
“For now, increasing my supernatural power has to come first. Both my innate abilities can remain active without consuming spirituality. Even with its limits, even if it only works on low-Sequence supernatural practitioners for now, [Cognitive Revision] is an exceptional means of staying alive. And [Weather Sense] is an ability sailors and Navigators would dream of having!
“But those two abilities alone are nowhere near enough to escape, let alone take revenge. I need to complete my initiation as soon as possible and gain at least one rank in a combat-oriented supernatural Sequence. Only then will I have the beginnings of the power to protect myself. That should also activate the trait the Logbook gave me, [Historical Revisionist]. And I happen to have a key item for performing an initiation rite.”
At that thought, Julian raised his left hand.
The [dynastic signet ring] that should have been on his index finger was gone!
But when he noticed that even the sapphire buttons on his shirt cuffs were missing, he immediately calmed down.
“First a merchant vessel rescued me, then a band of pirates captured me. Expecting them to leave my belongings untouched would be wishful thinking. Whoever took them, they must have ended up aboard this pirate vessel.”
A moment’s consideration was enough to decide him.
“First, I need to recover my belongings from the [Maneater Shark], especially the [dynastic signet ring]. That’s the most important thing. Only through that supernatural object, a medium symbolizing House Ravenshaw’s kingship, can I perform the initiation rite for a supernatural profession and cut off any further attempts by House Ashcombe to find me through divination and hunt me down.
“I’ll ride this pirate vessel out of Hastings’s coastal waters as fast as possible. After that, whether I head deeper into the vast North Sea or make for the overseas colonies, there’ll be countless opportunities. With the [Logbook] to help me, I can grow stronger quickly simply by continuing to explore the unknown. It’s a perfect fit for this Age of Exploration, less than a century old, with countless blanks still waiting on the maps. A naval career would be walking straight into a trap, but privateer captain, pirate, independent adventurer, bounty hunter ... any of those would do!”
Julian caught hold of the carved ornamentation on the pirate vessel’s stern gallery and climbed silently upward.
At the end of the Logbook, a line appeared in ink:
House Ravenshaw’s hatred may be hidden for now, but a day will come when blood and fire sing in concert.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen in one of the Maneater Shark’s lower compartments, a young man in a white cook’s hat stood staring at a cutting board, a kitchen knife in his hand.
Outside the porthole, the merchant sailors’ screams weakened from piercing cries to silence. With a slightly crazed expression, he muttered to himself.
“I did nothing wrong! The captain insisted on that ridiculous chivalry, swearing to defend Lord Aldwick’s property to the death. The man was a pillar of the Ravenshaw faction, and they’ve already been wiped out! When the captain insisted on fishing that unknown castaway out of the sea, clinging to his plank, I told him the knights’ Eight Virtues were a joke. Stubborn old fossils don’t last long on a sea this dangerous.
“If the captain hadn’t led the boarding party onto the pirate vessel like he wanted to get himself killed, I wouldn’t have shot him in the back. They say Oswald, Redgaze, captain of the Maneater Shark, is ruthless. A powerful supernatural practitioner, too. If we’d forced him to act, everyone would have died. At least I survived. That makes it worth it!”
But as he slowly lowered his gaze to the ingredients on the cutting board, fear crept back into his face.
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