Chapter 229: She Knows

“Arros,” Slick Jones greeted flatly, ticking a mark off his book as Finn came close. “Navigator. Cabin assignments are below deck. Report to Mistress Vara once you’ve stowed your gear.”

Finn nodded and climbed the gangway, feeling the slight shift beneath his feet as he transitioned from solid dock to floating vessel. The Tidebreaker swayed gently in the harbor’s calm waters, but he could practically sense the latent power in the ship thrum. The uniqueness that had drawn him close in the first place. It almost felt like she knew she was about to spread her sail again.

Finn cracked a light smile at that. He was beginning to think like a sailor. The past two weeks had been intensive. Between his continued work on the ship and his evenings to himself, Finn had devoured every text on navigation he could get his hands on. Maritime charts. Wind patterns. Ocean currents. Star navigation. Tidal calculations. The language of sailors and the hierarchy of ship operations.

He’d watched other experienced sailors speak and decipher charts, going as far as employing use of his [Null Perception] to stand invisible beside them as they plotted courses for their own ships and journeys, and made their calculations. He’d observed how they read the weather by sight before they ever took off from the docks, how they communicated with captains, how the interactions between crew members was like.

It wasn’t perfect knowledge. Two weeks couldn’t replicate years of experience. But combined with his expanded mind due to Earth education, and his natural analytical abilities, Finn could play the role convincingly enough. He understood the theory. He could perform the calculations. And more importantly, he could speak the language with enough confidence that sailors would believe he knew what he was doing.

The deception wasn’t even necessary for their true destination. But maintaining the cover story required authenticity. And Finn had learned long ago that the best lies were built on foundations of truth.

He found his assigned cabin — a small space barely larger than the room he’d rented in the Sprawl, but adequate for his needs. A narrow bunk, a small desk with a lamp bolted down, and storage beneath the bed. The walls were bare wood, still smelling faintly of fresh varnish.

Finn stowed his pack and headed back topside to report to Vara.

The deck was growing crowded now. More crew members arrived in a steady stream. Finn recognized several faces from his time working on the ship. Marylene, the red-haired deck worker who he’d met on his first day on the deck, and others whose names he’d learned over the weeks of interaction.

They greeted him with nods and brief words. He’d built those relationships deliberately, making himself memorable but not suspiciously so. The charming newcomer who learned quickly and bought drinks after hard days. The helpful hand who didn’t complain about grunt work.

It was all performance, though. Designed to build the persona of “Arros” as someone worth following. Someone who inspired loyalty. Someone whose stories would be told.

There was nothing spectacular about it to count as lore building, but it was something for a start.

“Arros!”

He turned to find Vara approaching from the stern, her expression all business. She wore practical sailing clothes now — leather vest over a loose shirt, with sturdy trousers and boots. Her hair was tied back severely, and her eyes held the sharp focus of someone about to undertake something momentous.

“Captain,” Finn greeted formally, loud enough for nearby crew to hear.

“You’ve met the two additions to our crew,” Vara said, gesturing toward two figures standing near the mainmast.

Finn’s chest tightened imperceptibly, though his expression remained neutral and curious. He followed Vara across the deck.

The first figure was immediately recognizable despite her new look. Thalia wore simple traveling clothes — a practical tunic and trousers, sturdy boots, her purple hair tied back in a braid. A sword hung at her hip, and the way she carried herself was exactly like a seasoned mercenary. Cold and calm. She scanned everyone’s faces like they could be her enemies at the slightest provocation.

Beside her stood Ailin, the Mnemosyne. She was draped in layers of dark fabric that obscured her figure, a hood pulled low over her face. But even partially hidden, those black-abyss eyes were visible.

“I forgot to mention the last time, but she goes by the name, Althea,” Vara introduced, gesturing to Thalia. “Swordswoman and guardian to our other passenger.”

Althea…?

The name sent a chill down Finn’s spine like he’d been doused with cold water. His mind raced even as his face maintained polite interest. Althea? The name Thalia would take in the future? The name that belonged to a different timeline and a different world entirely?

There was no way that was a coincidence, no possible scenario where Thalia randomly chose that specific name without knowledge. Which meant his suspicion was correct. The Mnemosyne had revealed things to her… Future

things.

How much did Thalia know now? Did she understand what she would become? Did she know about her relationship with the Order Fragment? The Ossuary of the future? What did she know?

Finn nearly broke character entirely as both shock and curiosity overtook him. But somehow, he was able to scale through and maintain his calm demeanor. He simply nodded politely.

“A pleasure to meet you again, Miss Althea.”

“Likewise, Navigator,” Thalia… or rather, Althea, responded with formal distance.

Of course, this wasn’t actually their first meeting. Not in the past two weeks, anyway. Vara had insisted on introducing all key crew members during the preparation period, ensuring everyone understood their roles and could work together without friction.

Finn had stood in this very spot a week ago, nodding at Thalia in cursory acknowledgment like a stranger while Vara explained their respective duties. He’d looked into Ailin’s unfathomable eyes and exchanged meaningless pleasantries. They’d all performed their roles perfectly, establishing the fiction that they were merely crew members thrown together by circumstance.

Back then, they’d barely talked, and Finn never got her name, mostly because she had been silent the whole time, and partly because he just didn’t think of it at all. It was an inconsequential matter that he hadn’t bothered with.

Even if Thalia had chosen to use an alias, it wouldn’t have mattered, he’d considered the same himself before ever meeting Vara, deciding against it in the end. But never in his wildest imagination could he have thought she would choose that name…

“And also,” Vara continued, gesturing to the Mnemosyne, “our Blessed.”

“We’re honored to have such expertise aboard,” Finn said diplomatically, turning back to Vara. “With the Blessed’s knowledge and your charts, Captain, we’ll chart routes no one’s dared attempt.”

Vara’s expression flickered. “Indeed. Now get settled. We sail with the tide.”

She strode away, leaving Finn standing with the two people he’d tried to keep separate from this journey.

For a moment, the three of them stood in charged silence. Crew members moved around them, too busy with preparations to notice the tension.

“Nice weather for sailing,” Althea said conversationally, keeping her tone even.

“Indeed,” Finn replied, matching her energy. “Let’s hope it holds.”

He nodded and walked away right after that, heading toward the navigation station where charts and instruments waited. Behind him, he felt Althea’s eyes, along with the Mnemosyne’s unknowable gaze, tracking his movement.

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