Chapter Text
It was supposed to be an easy job. His first one, in fact. Not many ships with high risk manifests want a fresh, young face on the job. But a medium-sized vessel transporting building supplies to a small colony on an island that he doesn’t even remember the name of? The no-name captain was all-too-happy to pay the bare minimum to secure people to scream at and make himself feel way more important than he actually is.
However, despite all of this, with a broom in his left hand, and broken whiskey bottle shards in his right, Leo had the fortune of watching all 6 of his “crewmates” corner the captain after his 5th nightly bender. The middle-aged Navy discharge would seem like a formidable foe with his defined muscles and something-to-prove attitude, but when you’re unable to take 2 steps sideways without stopping to think about it, even 2 average-sized men was over-kill.
They were shouting about going east, to some land they acquired a map to, that was apparently filled with riches and power.
Leo sighed and sat down against a crate. He had heard about this fabled land in whispers between government officials desperate to move up, and gullible adventurers looking for their names to be in books.
All of the whispers claimed wild and fantastic things, but there was one consistent detail- no one ever returned once they entered the permanent storms that surrounded, perhaps protected, the land.
Leo considered saying something to the usurpers until he noticed the gleeful glint in their eyes as they took turns carving unholy images into the (dead? unconscious?) captain. Instead the young man took his hair out of its short ponytail and ran his hand through the dark, curly mess, turning his amber gaze away. The men had either forgotten about him or didn't care enough about him enough to include them in their plans, so he might as well get comfortable while he waited for his inevitable death.
It’s kinda funny, Leo thinks, that out of all the men on the ship, the one who was sure they were all going to die was the only one to survive. Looking back on it all, he’s not exactly sure what happened. He was certain, when the skies turned dark with flashes of red streaking the sky to accompany the roar of thunder, that his time had come, but then he was waking up on a beach. He even appeared relatively unharmed, despite feeling like he was flogged. To be fair, he wasn't exactly sure that the other men perished, especially when most people seem to be revived on this gods forsaken island, but he definitely hasn’t seen them. Not in First Light, the town closest to the ship wreck, nor in any of the other cities he had ventured to.
The crack of a tree splitting and falling to the ground jostles him out of his thoughts. Looks like yet another (un)lucky soul made it to the shores. The new ones always tend to realize that everything they need to survive revolves around wood, hemp, ore, and hide fairly quickly. Looking up, he sees the distinctive walls of First Light come into view.
While Leo was trying to make a home out of Cutlass Keys (the abundance of iron surrounding the settlement suited his needs nicely), he had a few resources left in the storage of the Syndicate-operated haven. He was lucky enough to come across some Fae Iron a few months prior, and the rarity made it worth the walk to grab it for his new rapier he’s building.
He lets out a sigh of relief as he entered the boundaries of the settlement. Conflict was against the law inside these “sanctuaries” and while he isn’t expecting much trouble around the first town most survivors stumble across, lately the tensions between factions have been rising and there’s been an increase in desperate attempts to secure power in all regions. Sure, most people here don’t exactly “die”, in the normal sense, and nothing on this island is normal, but dying still hurts. Being shot in the neck by a musket hurts. Bones shattering under a war hammer hurts. Being frozen or burned to death hurts. Plus there is always that underlying fear that maybe you’ll come back different. That your skin will have a red tint to it and you won’t recognize those you love.
The familiar smell of bread and roasting game meat is a small comfort, however, Leo thinks, as he passes by the inn. The storage he needs to get to is on the other side of the settlement, next to the crafting stations. As he turns around the corner to the street his destination is on, he’s pleased to see that Ursula, the Syndicate representative for First Light, is currently occupied by some new recruits.
After it became apparent that he needed the protection and aid of a faction if he wanted to spend any time outside the safety of the walls, Leo decided that he liked the research and knowledge-based Syndicates. If they had any hope of getting off this island, they would need to be able to understand it and work with it more than they need to worship it or conquer it. Truth be told, Leo felt a sense of satisfaction in completing missions given to him and slowly becoming a trusted contributor, which had the positive side effect of raising his rank within the faction.
However, today, the only goal he cares about was getting this Fae Iron. He manages to make it to the storage container without so much of a glance from the woman. He quickly opens the door and he’s grateful for his short stature when it hides his face. He sorts through some slightly used tools and weapons that he couldn’t bring himself to destroy. Ah ha! He pushes aside some lumber to find a green cloth wrapped delicately around the iridescent chunks of iron. Placing it inside his pouch, he secures everything back into storage, and moves to take the back entrance out of the settlement. Mission comple-
“Ah, young Leonardo!” Leo froze. Perhaps if he didn’t move, he wouldn’t-
“Leonardo! May I have a moment of your time?” He sighs and turns to walk up the wooden platform.
“Good Morning, Representative Ursula. What can I do for you?” Leo crosses his leather-clad arms. The recruits had scattered by now, probably off doing whatever missions they were assigned. This probably meant that-
“I’m afraid I have a task for you. I’d ask someone else, but unfortunately you are the only one in the settlement with the skill level and rank acceptable for this.” The woman almost sounded apologetic. Almost. He could tell that the woman isn’t really giving him an option here.
“What’s my assignment?” No point in beating around the bush- he might as well get it out of the way. Ursula flips through the papers in her hand and hands him one. Leo frowns at what he sees. Of all the missions, this was the one he was getting?
“Are you sure you handed me the right one?”
“Absolutely. I need you to acquire some sensitive data hidden just beyond Saircor Bridge and place it inside a hidden cache at the nearby beach. The exact locations are on that document. Don’t lose it.” He narrows his eyes.
“Why don’t I just bring the data back here? Why just bring it from one hidden spot to another?” The representative sighs.
“This level of information is normally beyond your rank, but I can already tell that you won’t let it be. The data you’ll be transporting isn’t for me. It’s for another agent that’s undercover in another faction. Because of this, our only form of contact is through hidden caches. The original man who was transporting this time found himself being tracked, but was thankfully able to discreetly stash it before he was inevitably ambushed and killed. He was revived, of course, but it would be suspicious to send the same man out that way. But the fact here is that we need to finish the drop-off before someone finds the data and before our undercover agent checks the caches for the day.” Okay, that explains why it can’t be done by the recruits. However, the thought of being tracked and ambushed like the agent before him doesn’t really sound like a good time.
“Will I be getting a team?” She shook her head.
“No. We believe the ambush was just a result of some opportunistic thugs stumbling across him. This area is mostly trafficked by newer additions to the island and there’s no high-value resources there. It’s reasonable to assume that other factions won’t waste their more… battle-hardened… agents by sending them here.” Leo looked down at the paper again. The logic was perfectly sound, but something still didn’t feel quite right. He briefly glanced at the representative. She’s busying herself with the rest of the papers, but also shifting her weight from one foot to another, and clenching and unclenching her jaw. The noticeable bags under her eyes are just another indicator of the amount of stress she is in. She’s not telling me everything. Either way, it’s roughly noon. I need to get going if I want any chance of completing this before sun-down.