For more than a month, the red and gold fleet sailed along Draconia's shores. More warships joined the procession in the meantime, swelling its numbers to over 300. 

The waters were sometimes so beautiful and clear that Syn couldn't help but take a dive and swim alongside the ships. It was warm and welcoming, washing his worries away. He could hear each ship moving as a sort of muffled avalanche while they creaked by, scaring schools of fish. Though they were still in friendly waters, a squadron of skarsh were assigned to guard him during these spontaneous escapades. 

It reminded him of younger years, like when he had first gone swimming in his teens. 

Back then, the only time he could go swimming was when he was allowed to visit the gulf atolls on vacation. He had gone swimming in the clear waters near the Sevis private lagoon. First, it was surprising how easy it was to breathe underwater. He could feel the water moving in and out, heavier and saltier tasting than air. Secondly, his body adapted: scaly paws became webbed and the spines down his back grew fins. 

He experimented with movement, paddling with his limbs, torpedoing with a full body wiggle, and using his wings to give a burst of speed or a quick stop. It felt natural after a while. 

He had gotten carried away swimming around the colorful and teeming reef of the lagoon when he decided to go as deep as he wanted. So he swam outside the shallows and began to dive towards the abyss. Deeper and deeper he plunged, until he could no longer see anything. Disorienting and disconcerting, he spun around aimlessly in the dark. He couldn't hear anything beyond the swishing of his own movements. The shivering cold and firm pressure made it difficult to determine which way was up. He hadn't yet learned how to tell intrinsically, so instead he spewed boiling water to warm himself and followed the heat upwards. 

Emerging from the depths, he surfaced and refilled his lungs with weightless air. Floating there, his head snaked out of the water while he looked around. In the distance, the lagoon was a sliver on the horizon. Laughing with a bellow, he sprayed water into the air which fell about him in a rainbow. 

A shadow passed over his glistening scales and glittering water. Looking up, a perturbed griffin circled above. 

With her feathers ruffled from stress, Zeritha cawed down to him, "Sir, please don't do that again. It's hard to keep track of you down there." 

Nowadays, Zeritha was much less prone to panicking than she was in her teens. Her lifelong post of guardian companionship had accustomed her to Syn's individuality. With his current excursions, she simply observed from a high deck and let the skarsh do the sweating. 

Yet they hardly strained themselves keeping up with the prince. Outside the water, skarsh walked a bit awkwardly with their tails dragging and their senses were dulled. But in their natural element, they were elegant and their senses beyond exceptional. 

Syn would never be able to outswim or escape his vigilant escorts down there. 

*** 

After a few more weeks, the fleet was traversing the open ocean, and the weather had dulled. It was overcast and cloudy, with gentle rainstorms that dribbled on them day after day. 

Unable to soothe his nerves by enjoying the water, Syn turned to sobering himself for the serious duty ahead. He busied himself by appearing professional amidst the fleet, attending situation reports, and involving himself with the troops personally. So far the fleet was on schedule and everyone was accounted for. 

When he visited with the crew or passengers, it was important he stood upright and carried himself with dignity. He wore an extravagant red and gold embossed sash while most of the working crewmembers wore simple red and yellow striped sashes or skin suits. 

He talked with some skarsh crew while they were relaxing off-shift. From them he learned that they had special sensory organs in their nose. They could sense directions like a compass and see the movements of living creatures, except not so well above water. This made skarsh peerless sailors, and the lifeblood of any navy. 

Bored passengers were eager to speak with the prince, he got to know some of their hopes and fears. 

Centaurs were poor swimmers, and all the strength in the world meant nothing if they were without leverage to use it. They would rather not swim unless they had to and couldn't wait until they stepped hoof on dry land again. 

Griffins complained that it was difficult to see through water, but with experience could accurately judge distances in refracted light. They could learn to swim after diving in from the sky, but that was practiced by only a fraction of griffins as most preferred to fly comfortably in the air instead of get their feathers wet.  

Dragons didn't mind the ocean too much. Some that lived most of their lives in it were part of the navy. Sleeping on the ocean floor was fine, though most agreed that the deep ocean was too eerie to be comfortable spending much time there. Deep sea cities luminous enough to penetrate the dark were rare. 

Each of the soldiers hoped to return home victorious. To survive another round of war, or at least not die with disgrace. 

So Syn renewed his conviction to lead these troops responsibly. He vowed that they were in capable hands, and that the skarsh would deliver them safely. Though, his curiosity was piqued about something noticeable. 

He sought out the admiral, Lord Smaw. In the officer quarters, the leopard shark skarsh perused various paperworks, but upon seeing Crown Prince Syn he stood at attention and saluted with an arm over the chest. 

The admiral was short and sleek, only coming up to Syn's chest. He wore a Draconia color uniform with golden epaulets and a bicorn hat. 

Syn and Zeritha returned a courtesy salute, then Syn stepped forward while Zeritha kept composed in her usual guard routine. 

"At ease, admiral." Syn bent his neck down to get his head more level with the admiral's. 

"Your highness, shah, something you need of me?" Smaw held his gloved hands behind his back. 

"I wanted to ask you something about skarsh. I've noticed that tattoos are prominent among you, why is that?" Syn noted that he couldn't see whether the admiral had any tattoos on his patterned skin under his uniform. His finned tail didn't have any. 

He didn't bring this up during his crew visits, since he didn't want to appear ignorant to the troops. 

"Hmm, shhah, ritual tattoos are dedicated flesh. Helps with regeneration." 

"Oh, I thought skarsh did that by just devouring meat?" 

Smaw nodded. "Eating empowers, yes shaw, but the tattooed flesh is instant." 

"It works with any kind of flesh?" Syn twirled the tip of his tail in a circle. 

"If the skin can be tattooed, and it's living..." 

Syn blinked. "Then why eat each other?" 

Smaw grinned with tiny teeth. "It comes from ancient tradition. Shh, blood is blood and skarsh blood has magical properties." 

There was a knock at the metal door, and after it groaned open a fancily sashed Lord Horozon entered. 

The cardinal-tiger marched to join them. "Your highness, I see you're meeting with the admiral. May I be of assistance?" 

"Apologies, my advisor, but our conversation wasn't very serious in nature." Syn turned to shrug his wings and shake his head. 

Admiral Smaw spoke up at them. "Excuse me, Prince, Lord Horozon. While I have you both here, there is something I need to speak to you about." He scuttled to a window, witnessing the dreariness that fell upon the fleet. "So far the storm we've sailed through has been gentle, but we expect it to become a tempest soon." 

Horozon's crest raised. "Do we have a plan in place?" 

Smaw turned back to them, brows raised with a slight smirk. "Aye. The fleet will need to spread out, to avoid collisions amidst the storm." 

"This will be sufficient protection?" Syn questioned, crossing his forelegs. 

Horozon consoled him, tweeting. "Highness, your fleet is captained by the finest skarsh in the kingdom. Renowned for their skill as shipmasters, they'll be able to drive through rough seas safely. From what I know, this is best practice in a storm." 

Smaw nodded. "This will be our most vulnerable time in the whole voyage. Shhaw. Fortunately, we are in open waters with nary an enemy in sight. We've had plenty of time to prepare and more so to regroup afterwards." 

They continued, discussing details and just what exactly the prince should do during the endeavor. Eventually, when the two of them strayed into personal matters, Syn excused himself. 

*** 

For hours Syn lounged in his royal quarters, here he could gaze out the portholes at the fleet while the ships began to spread out. His room was surprisingly spacious and well furnished. There was a model replica of the metal flagship hanging from the ceiling which swayed with the bobbing of the waves. Draconia decorations displayed the accomplishments of the navy on the walls and on shelves. Zeritha was spending some time inspecting such knick knacks. 

A group of four slaves stood at attention by the foot of his lounging couch, his slaves. Thus far, he had avoided them by giving them vague commands and leaving them to his quarters while he was out. But now he couldn't escape them and he realized it would be rude to just keep ignoring them. 

Syn lied on the couch while he turned his head from the window to his waiting servants. "I can't keep calling each of you 'slave' or 'servant'. What are your names?" 

The green dragon servant introduced himself first, "Master, my name is Camon." He had no horns (they were grinded to nubs), brown spots on his sides, a ridged back, and a curly tail. He wore only a gold collar. 

The same Camon motioned to a big tigershark skarsh beside him. "This one's name is Tirii." 

Tirii shrank at the attention, but she was tall enough to come up to Syn's chin, both standing. She managed to nod to the prince, with her tail to the side. 

A griffin combo of a black swan-panther leaned in. "Hello master, my name is Swadia." She cooed and fluttered her pristine black feathers. 

The last in the line was a centaur, a shire horse breed. The huge centaur dwarfed everyone besides Tirii and was covered with intricate skarsh tattoos. His horse snout snorted when he realized he was next to introduce. With a deep voice he said, "I'm Homff." 

Syn looked each of them in the eye for a moment before continuing. "To be honest with you, I would rather not have to lord over you at all. I would set you free, to pursue what you wish with your lives." 

Camon clasped his claws and bowed low to the ground with his wings spread. "Master, we want nothing more than to serve you, the hope of many." 

"Hope of many?" Syn rattled his spines. "Why do you think this?" 

Camon prostrated himself further, while the others began to kneel. "You've spoken of peace before, to your father the king. You can end the war. End the suffering. We just know it!" Camon wailed. 

Silence followed for a moment, the metal ship creaked. Zeritha turned her head around and watched them carefully from where she was admiring baubles. Syn just stared at the prostrate dragon in front of him. 

Camon lifted only his hornless head and neck from the floor. "And we were moved by your compassion for the enslaved. By how you suffered to free Homff." 

Syn looked over at the huge centaur. "You were there? 

"Yes, that griffin over there released me that night." He looked at Zeritha. 

Zeritha nodded. 

Camon rose to a kneeling position, mirroring the others. "Do not think you take our freedom from us. We gladly pledge ourselves to you, master." 

Syn rose from his resting place to stand among them. "You honor me, more than I deserve." He took a moment to close his eyes and exhale. "Very well, I will have you serve me." 

He allowed them to serve Zeritha and himself some tea. Then he had them serve each other tea as well. It was a type of Oolong tea that tasted of fruit with a woody aroma. Soothed nerves contrasted with the weather outside as lightning cracked the sky while everybody relaxed. Zeritha was entangled in conversation with Swadia. Syn was sitting with Homff and Camon, mostly in silence as they basked in his presence. Tirii reclined by herself, gazing out a porthole. 

A knock on the metal door rung out. Syn had Homff let in this guest, the floor thudding with every step of his hooves. The iridescent wyvern Kaleid stepped inside wearing the Heartfyre robes befitting a fictis. 

"How are you this rainy day, your highness?" He greeted with his whiskers upturned. 

"Just waiting until I can actually do something." Syn arched his neck and took a sip from his teacup. 

Kaleid waddled into the room. "Ah well, I heard you were taking an interest in skarsh recently? I may be able to enlighten you on some things." 

Syn tilted his head. "Uh, yes I was, but—" 

"Good good! Then I came here at the right time." Kaleid's toothy smile spread across his muzzle while he took a seat across from Syn. 

Oolong tea was also served to the fictis, who was appreciative as he held the cup delicately in his claws. His stinger-tail swayed from side to side, eager to share his knowledge with the prince. 

Tirii shifted from the window to silently observe the conversation. 

"Now, I'm going to talk about the original skarsh role, according to the Covenant." Kaleid qualified. 

"I was taught that in my religious studies. They are the rulers of the sea, born hunters and predators. They can smell blood in the water from leagues away, and gain power by consuming it. In the empire they controlled nautical trade and movement." 

"You were likely taught an abridged version. I will try to fill in the gaps." Kaleid set down his cup. "Skarsh abilities make them unparalleled in their domain. In the past, skarsh were more than just predators. They cultivated aquaculture, raised livestock, and made sure the oceans were clean of carrion. The empire used them to tame the sea's bounty. That was their role." 

Syn wondered, "How do their tattoos fit into this?" 

"Tattoos?" Kaleid pulled at one of his whiskers. "Oh yes, their consecrated flesh. This was an invention back during the days of empire. It was special, ceremonious even. The ink they use is mixed with their blessed blood. That's what makes the tattoos work." He took a moment to think. "Their widespread use was not an original intention. It was first used by those who volunteered for it." 

"They chose to do it to themselves?" 

"Yes, it was first created by those who wanted to help their fellow skarsh. They shed their own blood for their brethren." Kaleid bobbed his head. "You see, it's origin is self sacrifice, not the same as it is used nowadays where they choose to spill other's blood for their own. It's become a utility to benefit their fighting capabilities in the war effort. A twisted shadow of what once was." He clasped his claws and shook his head. 

Syn took a good look at the marks on Homff's body. "The war should be ended..." 

"Do you think things will go back to the days of the Myriads just because the war ends?" Kaleid asked sagely. 

Syn's long tail curved upwards and swung but the thin tip drooped limp. He pricked the spines on his chin in thought while his throat rumbled. 

After conversing a little while longer Kaleid retired back to his quarters with the acolytes, leaving the prince to think about the state of the world. 

Outside, the flagship closed its sails and battened down the hatches as the wind blew tumultuously and the waves grew more rigorous. The sky grew black as they sailed deeper into the dark tempest. 

All the while, under the waves another threat drew near...