Finn entered the cabin behind Vara, who moved with purposeful strides to settle behind a large wooden desk. She crossed her legs and propped them on the table’s edge, staring at him with an intensity clearly meant to make him squirm.
Finn wasn’t affected at all.
Instead, he looked around the cabin, taking in every detail. The space served multiple purposes, doubling as an office, a study, and living quarters all at once.
The walls themselves told stories. Maps covered most of them, showing coastlines, trade routes, and ocean currents marked in fading ink. Some maps looked decades old, their edges yellowed and brittle. Others appeared more recent, with fresh notations in what Finn assumed was Vara’s own hand. A narrow bed sat against one corner, its simple frame and single thin blanket suggesting Vara spent more nights here than in any comfortable home.
Books and scrolls lay scattered across the desk in organized chaos. Finn noticed titles in languages he recognized and some he didn’t. Navigation manuals sat stacked beside what appeared to be personal journals. A brass sextant, compass, and what looked like star charts, occupied one corner. And there, on the wall, hung the same framed picture of the Tidebreaker that adorned her father’s office. The ship in its glory days, sails full, cutting through painted waves.
Other frames held portraits. One in particular caught Finn’s attention. It was a portrait of a man who bore clear resemblance to Boss Murdo, though his features were sharper, more weathered by sea and sun. The family resemblance extended to Vara as well, visible in the determined set of the jaw and the intense eyes.
That must be her great-grandfather, Finn mused internally.
Vara watched him patiently as he observed everything, her expression unreadable. She seemed content to let him catalog the cabin, perhaps using his reactions to gather her own information. Only when Finn’s eyes finally settled on her did she speak.
"Why aren’t you surprised that I called you here?" She asked, but Finn only shrugged casually.
Vara continued, her voice taking on a more analytical edge. "Normal people would be suspicious. Wondering what they’d done wrong, maybe. Or at least curious about why the boss’s daughter wants a private meeting with a worker who’s been here less than a week." She tilted her head slightly. "But from your demeanor, it seems you almost expected this scenario."
She leaned forward slightly, her legs still crossed on the desk. "Why? What makes you so certain I’d call you? What do you think you have that’s important enough to catch my interest?"
Finn took his time responding, his expression thoughtful. "I think the better question is what you saw in me that caught your attention in the first place." He gestured vaguely at the cabin around them. "You weren’t particularly subtle about your interest. Having me transferred from the oakum shed to deck work after only two days? That’s... unusual. So naturally, I expected we’d have this conversation eventually."
He met her eyes directly. "As for what I have to offer..." He smiled faintly. "I imagine that’s what you’re trying to determine right now."
Vara pursed her lips, clearly seeing through Finn’s clever deflection. "If there’s one thing I don’t like, it’s when someone beats around the bush." Her tone sharpened. "I’m not one who dances around subjects with clever word plays and shenanigans."
She dropped her legs from the table and sat upright, clasping her hands with her elbows on the desk. Her expression turned deadly serious.
"That’s why I’ll have to apologize, since I’m about to drop all the nonsense."
The lock of the door behind Finn suddenly turned with an audible click.
The temperature in the cabin seemed to drop several degrees. From the corner of the room behind Finn, a figure made himself known, someone who’d been there the entire time, perfectly still, perfectly silent.
Finn glanced back, still without any particular trace of shock on his face. The figure was Slick Jones from the piers. But the expression on his face was completely different from before. Cold. Dead. The air about him felt totally different, like he was a cold-blooded killer devoid of empathy or hesitation. He stared at Finn like he was already a corpse.
Vara’s voice drew Finn’s attention back. "Your answers to the questions I’m about to ask will decide whether you walk out of here alive, or end up sinking to the bottom of the ocean, never to be found again."
Finn hummed playfully. "I’d rather avoid that outcome."
Vara said nothing for a beat, then nodded. "Which God do you serve?"
"I’m a believer of the Shadow God," Finn responded perfunctorily.
"Strike one." Vara’s voice was flat. "You have two strikes left. I’d advise you to speak truth instead of playing games."
She waited a moment, then asked another question. "Where are you from?"
"I was a wanderer who roamed for some years, ever since I was old enough to be called a man. Only recently did I decide to settle here at Hoshin Bay."
"Why Hoshin Bay specifically?"
Finn shrugged. "What’s not to love about Hoshin Bay? It’s a trade hub. Has the largest ship port in this part of the world—"
"’—This part of the world,’" Vara repeated his exact words, her eyes sharpening.
Finn clarified smoothly. "There are also large ports that rival Hoshin Bay on the next continent. The lands of the Sun Gods."
"You speak as if you’ve been there."
Finn chuckled. "That’s because I have. During my travels."
"Strike two." Vara’s voice went cold. "One chance left."
Behind Finn, Slick Jones shifted position, moving closer to the door, blocking any possible escape route.
Finn made to explain himself, but Vara didn’t let him.
"It’s impossible for you to have visited the next continent, the lands of the Sun Gods, as a believer of the Shadow God, one of the Gods of the Night, and still be alive to tell the tale." Her words carried absolute certainty. "And even if, by some miracle, you had managed to survive that, there’s no way you could have crossed the ocean separating both continents."