//------------------------------//
// Our Journey begins...Again 
// Story: The Smokeless Flame 
// by BIGBLACKINTOSH 
//------------------------------//

“Port side at the ready!” I shouted to the top deck. Diamond dogs and sheep alike scrambled to the left side of the deck. Separating from the group, one of each race manned a mounted ballista. In the time of the break, Black had worked his ass off upgrading our defenses. The ballistae had been outfitted with 360 degree swivels, a new bolt feeding system similar to clips (my idea), and all of them had a cannon set in the base.  There was an opening about the size of a pony’s fist. The diamond dog grabbed a bullet-shaped cannon ball and shoved it in the opening, a series of clicks confirming it was in place. The sheep paired with him took a cylinder and snapped it on the side of the ballista, attaching it with the flick of a switch. A small door opened on the cylinder and loaded a bolt.

Mitchell was towering over me with his freakish height, and would have been damn intimidating if not for the fact that he was wearing wooly pajamas and a tank top.  He yawned and ran his fingers through his chocolate colored hair. Couldn't blame him, it was five in the morning. “You ever consider doing your soldier thing in the afternoon?” He drawled.

I snorted. “Would it matter? You sleep ‘till dinner,” I quipped.

Mitchell blew a raspberry at me. “Bite me, I’m on vacation.”

I sighed, quickly losing my patience. “Dude I've got to train these farmers in a few minutes. What's the damage?”

Mitchell tilted his head, making a satisfying crack. “Just messin’ with you. Decided to get up today and see what all the noise was about,” he said, stepping past me. Mitchell leaned on the deck railing and watched as diamond dogs and sheep worked together to do their chores. “How’d you manage to get them to work together? Figured there’d be bad blood.”

I rested my arms on the railing and smiled. “There was. You were probably asleep, but there was an issue with one of D-dog crew members in town last week.”

“What happened?” He asked without looking at me.

“Dirt. You know, the really big one? Saggy face? Anyway, he went into town to get some groceries and got jumped by some drunks. No one pitched in until Black got there to break it up,” I explained. I spotted a sheep tripping his d-dog partner coming off the gangplank. “Hey, I saw that, motherfucker! Spade,” The d-dog getting up looked at me. “You get one free punch on Rand, use it when you feel like it, and Rand and everyone else can't say anything about it. Unless, they want to settle things with me?” I threatened with toothy smile.

Rand quickly got Spade to his feet and frantically tried to shake his head. Before Rand could say anything, Spade socked him in the jaw. Rand went face first into the grass and stayed there while everyone else walked over him. I smiled, proud of myself. “Since there was a lot to do and a lot of guys wanted to join in on the adventure, I was appointed mediator. Well, Black was, but he told me I was still captain.”

“That’s pretty impressive,” Mitchell said with a smirk.

“Yeah, my diplomacy skills are legendary,” I confessed with a self-satisfactory sigh.

“No, its impressive how you’ve managed to scare these two groups shitless,” he deadpanned. I punched his arm, hard, sending him flying into the port side railing. He sat up and gave me a weak smile as a bit of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. “Love you too, I.D.”

“Whatever, Mitchell,” I hissed, smirking. “I got to go see Flan. You should see her when I’m done.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that. Right after this nap,” Mitchell muttered before slumping to the ground.

I hopped on an elevator line and went down to the crew deck. The floor was bustling with hooping and hollering, making me think another fight had broken out. I pushed past the small crowd of sheep and d-dogs to see that they were spectating a interesting fight in the training room.

Shaking his head from side to side, Vito stepped onto the mat in the center of the room. He was shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of ragged shorts, and had his wings tucked tightly against his back. He was circling the mat, raising his arms like a boxer in a prime time match. His slick black hair glistened with sweat, showing that this had been going on for while. 

Across the mat was his best friend and current opponent, Mastodon, or Don. He was resting his meaty arms on his knees in a crouch, being much more calm than I had ever seen him. His normally wavy blonde hair was matted to his head. Just like Vito, Don was shirtless, showing off the tattoo on his neck that said ‘No mercy’. His fluffy yellow tail stayed tucked against his waist, like a belt.

Don suddenly grunted and got to his feet, rising to his full height of two metres. Vito stopped his showboating and got into a ready stance; one foot in front of the other, and his arms to his sides. The two vets started to circle each other, both starting at every movement. With the look in both of their eyes, I couldn't tell if they were anxious or excited. 

“Patea su culo Vito!” Someone shouted next to my ear.

I turned to deck the loudmouth, but hesitated when I saw that it was just Terk being himself. Terk was a bit taller than me, not at Don or Mitchell’s height, but still decent at 182 centimeters. His skin was coffee brown, marred by the sheer amount of tattoos he had. Said tattoos were on his right arm, an entire sleeve of broken chains running down to his wrist, ending in a lock. The tank top and green track pants he was wearing hung loosely on his body, making me seriously doubt his ability to fly. For the sake of the guys behind him, his red wings were tucked tightly to his back.

“Yo, Boss! Whatsup?” He practically shouted in my face.

I glared at him sharply and turned back to the fight. “Is there a reason why there’s a prize fight on my ship?” I asked flatly.

Terk chuckled. “Come on, boss, you know them; one guy says something stupid and then they have to settle it in the ring. Hell, I don't even know what they were even fighting about.”

Vito threw the first punch, the sound of the hit could be heard across the deck. He had impacted on Don’s shoulder, leaving himself open for Don to return the favor. With his normal arm, Don jabbed at Vito’s ribs. The moment Don’s thick fist connected, Vito skirted away, using the momentum of Don’s hit. Vito leaned over his right side, “Fuck!” He grunted, breathing harshly. Both of them were covered in bruises, both winded.


Don came at Vito like a freight train, winding up his mechanical arm for a big strike. Vito smirked, rolled under Don’s punch and popped up behind his exposed back. Vito must have been faking his injury, because the moment he got to his feet, he unleashed a fury of punches on Don’s back. Two hits, four hits, eight, none of it mattered, because Don thrust his elbow into Vito’s forehead. Vito didn't expect that, and clutched his forehead. “Goddam-,” He barely said, before Don delivered a wind knocking blow to Vito’s stomach, knocking him off his feet. Vito groaned and hugged his stomach tightly, trying to breathe in all he could from the ground. 

“Is anyone going to tell me how the hell this happened?!” I shouted, finally. The show was awesome, but enough was enough.

Don let a rolling laugh, his gravely voice threatening to shake the room. “Oh, shit. I forgot what the hell this was even about. I guess it must have slipped my mind. You remember, Vito?” Vito shuddered and kept his nose to the floor. “Ah, he’ll remember.”

I rubbed the bridge of my nose and took a deep breath. “Alright, well... Get him ready. There’s going to be a big meeting in an hour. Everyone is in attendance,” I said just loud enough for everyone to hear. Everyone cleared the room in a rush. Paco caught one of the d-dogs and made a “gimme” gesture with his hand, his palm held flat. The d-dog growled and dropped a handful of random gems (unrefined diamonds, imperfect rubies, that junk) into his hand.

Don grabbed Vito by the waist strap on his shorts and hefted him onto his shoulder. “So, what's the deal, I.D.? We leaving this grass pit?” He asked, trying to balance Vito on his shoulder. 

Paco counted out his winnings. “Dammit, that dude was, like, two rocks short. Yeah, boss, when we getting out of here? This place has been nothing but boring, and I’m running out of chumps. Pretty sure I’ve cleaned out most of the new crew.”

I shrugged. “Black and Herpy said they managed to get the ship where it needed to be, but they needed to speak to me before we take off.”

“Okay, when did they tell you that?” Paco asked.

I rubbed my index fingers together. “About two weeks ago,” I chuckled nervously.

Both of their jaws dropped to the floor. Literally, I’ll never get used to that.

“We’ve been stuck here for almost another month because...Why!?” Don begged, almost dropping Vito in surprise.

“Seriously, what the hell, ‘Dilla?” Paco chided.

“Okay, one: if you call me ‘Dilla’ again the whole ship is going to be eating turkey tonight. Two: I’ve kinda been busy trying to get this thing called a “relationship” squared away.” Both of them groaned. “What?! I’m trying to get my relationship with my friend beyond semi-romantic bullshit.” Seriously, the Twilight ‘staring into each others eyes’ thing does not work. I really don’t like ignoring someone who took a magic missile for me.

“So, while you two have been fucking like bunnies, we’ve had to deal with construction, mining and this racist grass pit called a town?” Don demanded.

I couldn't tell them what Sheytan’s death had done to my brain. What her powers made me remember. During all that time, I had been absorbing information, trying to figure out how to explain to them the path ahead. That would have to wait for the meeting tonight. “Yes, and it's been wonderful. I’m about to go see them now, so don't get your panties in a bunch. And FYI, we haven't fucked yet, so get your facts straight!” I shouted on my way out the door.

Ah, the infirmary. The moment I stepped through the door I was greeted with the scent of antiseptic and alcohol. Rows of beds lined each side of the huge room, a set of large cabinets stood to my right, along with a wooden desk. The smells of the hospital-like room brought a subconscious memory. I couldn't remember why, but I was absolutely thrilled and in a lot of pain. My euphoria was broken when I realized that one of the beds were occupied. What had caught my attention was the new sound of moaning and ruffling feathers. 

Two grey wings stood stiff as the guy they were attached to was tongue wrestling someone pinned beneath him. I had to lead in to see his face, and couldn't help but question why he was here. “Herpy?” 

Herpy’s head jerked up to meet my eye. His yellow eyes stared at me with surprise, his left eye drifting to his right. Herpy’s wings flapped once in an attempt to jump to his feet, but failed when his bare feet caught the end of the bed, resulting in him slamming himself onto the floor. 

“Mein God! Are you okay?! His female companion shouted, jumping to his aid. Dr. Flankinstein (Flan preferred) quickly gave Herpy a once over, trying to assess the damage of his head and going as far as lifting him by the cheeks. Flan was about my height, 178 centimeters. Her long blond hair trumped mine, flowing down her back. Two huge nails jutted from either side of her neck, stitches ran around her neck, wrists and stomach as if they were seams. She was in nothing but a bra and khakis, and currently making Herpy’s nose bleed like fountain.

“You smothering him!” I struggled to say as I laughed hysterically.

“Don't laugh! Help me, he’s getting blood everywhere!”

After taking a few minutes to clean up the mess, Flan got Herpy into a bed with a fresh blood IV. Flan had clad herself in her usual lab coat, clasping all the buttons up to her neck. “You have impeccable timing, you know that?” she grumbled as she flopped in her chair.

I finished laughing and wiped a tear. “Only for moments like these, girl. So, what is it, you needed to see me?” I asked as I plopped on a chair in front of her desk.

She growled and dug out a small stack of papers from her desk. “I needed to see you two weeks ago!” 

I held up my hands. “What? Romance takes time,” I retorted defensively. “Besides, looks like you guys were enjoying the downtime,” I nodded at Herpy.

Flan’s frown turned into a grin. She giggled and hugged herself, a deep red blush appearing on her cheeks. “I’ll admit, I would never had known Herpy was so interested if we didn't have so much time on the project,” she squealed. Flan’s happiness suddenly drained from her face and was replaced by a menacing stare. “Despite that, I think it would be in your best interest not to ignore my checkups in the future,” she said very calmly.

Well, that’s not fucking scary at all. “Okay,” I shuddered. “I promise not to miss any more appointments.”

Her smile returned, and Flan jumped to her feet. “Great! Now to business. Strip.” She ordered flatly.

“And then what? Bend over? Fuck you.”

Flan sighed. “I am trying to do a physical here. If you don't get undressed, I’m going to have to rip them off myself.”

“What is this, some kind of fucked up foreplay?” I asked as got up from the chair. I started taking of my clothes, warily staring at Flan, who started jotting down notes. “What are you writing?” I asked, slipping off my shirt.

Flan started quickly looking up and back down to her notepad. “Changes I’ve observed since I joined you. It’s very fascinating.” She said, slowly circling around me. I was down to my bra and briefs, so Flan could see all I had to give and was eagerly taking notes like a certain princess. “Your runes have changed; while the ones on your torso and groin have stayed the same, your arms and legs have ‘mutated’ drastically.”

“Um, what do you mean by ‘changes’?”

Flan looked to the ceiling, biting her lip. “I say mutate, but what I really mean is grow. Have you noticed how many tattoos you have on your arms?”

Now that she mentioned it, the runes on my arms had gotten thicker all over my body. “That’s  weird. How have I not noticed this?” I muttered, staring at my arms.

“Ah, the power of mild suggestion, lass,” I heard a heavy voice drawl behind me. I turned around to see a towering man about Mitchell’s height. Puffy black hair surrounded his ram’s horns, and long black runic marks ran up his back and neck, showing his hybrid origin. Slitted yellow eyes bored into mine as Big Black leaned against the door to the infirmary. “Nice knickers, by the way.”

I crossed my arms and couldn't help but smile. “You know, I’d be a lot more self conscious if I wasn't wearing briefs.”

“Now, don't get ya knickers in a twist, I’ve already seen ya naked, now lets down to business.” He said, coming closer to me. “First off, have you been practicing, like I told you?”

I stared at him for a second, and remembered what he was talking about. I raised my arms and poised my hands so my palms were facing away from me. At that moment I blocked everything out, Black and Flan weren’t there, I wasn't in the ship, I was standing alone in the fog of my mind. It had cleared up a bit since I had slept, but heavy fog still rose to my waist. I kept my pose, bringing up all the reasons I was here. Burijas and his game, my brother and his decision, but most importantly, myself. Recently, it has occurred to me what choices I could have made; I could have helped Asad with his mental issues, hell, I could told Burijas to fuck off. It doesn't matter, decisions were made, and whenever I think about them, it gets me pissed. Calling up all these buried thoughts, the fog below my feet glowed red, and just before I came back to reality, I felt a hard hand wrapping around my ankles.

When I opened my eyes, my arms had been covered in the lava rock-like chitin I appeared in this land coated in.

“Nice job,” Big Black said. “What was your memory?” He asked curiously.

I glared at him. “Nothing important. How long was I out?”

He chuckled a bit and started circling me. “Ah, it was something strong. Djinni magic is mainly controlled by emotions. Emotions help drive the purpose of magic and can even shape it.” He explained. “You were standing there for about...” he checked his watch. “Eight minutes.”

I stared down at my rock-encased arms, flexing my fingers. “That long?” I asked, mostly to myself. If it took me that long to change, I would consider just leaving myself in rock. But with certain… Emotional obligations, I didn't want to go through that headache. 

“Whatever it was you did, keep it in your forethought, it’ll help you change faster. And practicing wouldn’t hurt either.” He suggested, rummaging through the bag he had over his shoulder.

I scanned the room for Flan, and couldn't find the zombie. “Where’d the doc go?”

“Carried Herp to his workshop. As short a time as I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him more grumpy than when he’s slept on a soft bed,” he said, pulling a small onyx ball out of the leather bag.

I eyed it suspiciously. It was a small ball, no bigger than a baseball. “What's that?”

He ignored me and put the onyx ball next to my left eye. “Damn. Gonna have to shave it down.” He muttered. Black was now very aware of my flaming eyebrows and smiled. “This,” he said, shaking the ball. “Is your new eye and power matrix.”

“My new what?” I said, staring at it.

Black walked around and sat in Flan’s chair. “This is going to be your new eye,” he explained.

I sat down in the opposite chair and curiously leaned forward.”Okay, how is it going to do that?”

Black calmly put the ball on the desk and span it between his fingers. “Well, that part is easy. The energy, or smoke, as I like to call it, you got from both Sheytan and... what did you call the other one?”

“Steven.” I giggled.

Black laughed with me. “Steven, is what's going to power it. I’m going to etch some runes for containing and sight into this here bit of onyx and put into your head. Using the power of both the demons, it’s going give you new eyesight.”

I gently prodded at the socket I kept closed, my plating making it almost like I never had an eye to begin with. “Alright, that’s cool. When is it going be finished?” 

Big Black stared at the ball in his hands, rubbing his chin in thought. “Give me an hour,” he shrugged. 

“Perfect, that’s when the crew meeting is going to be,” I said excitedly. 

Black leaned back two legs, the chair creaking and groaning under his weight. Flan was not going to be happy. “You ever gonna tell us what Sheytan wanted with you?”

I smiled bleakly. I couldn't meet his eyes. I had kept everyone in the dark for the longest time. I was honestly surprised everyone had stayed with me so long… But that was going to change tonight. “Just come to the meeting. Along with our departure, I’ll be explaining everything.” I raised my head and looked him in the eye. “With all that’s coming, no one can afford to be in the dark. I also got another project for you,”

Black stared at me curiously. “What did you have in mind?”

I opened my fist, and felt something stretching out of a chink in my palm. The slim handle of a knife slid out of my hand, and for a second I felt at ease knowing I could do this again. I took the blade out with my other hand, taking a second to admire the darkness of the blade before stabbing it into the desk. “Use that creativity of yours to make something out this. And,” I continued, picking up my coat and drawing out my revolver. “Study this. I know you know how to work with flintlock, but I need this whole crew armed fast.” I ordered, laying the gun next to the knife.

Black stared at both items with glee. “Oh, no worries, lass. After this eye is done, I’m going to have a field day with these,” He muttered giddily.

Hopefully, he won’t get too carried away with that. I grabbed my coat and pants and trailed leather out of the room. As I went around the corner, I bumped into someone. I looked up to the offender, about to tear him a new one, but my breath caught when I looked up to see Nightheart’s big green eyes.

Nightheart’s hybrid origin shows in his eyes (among other places). Equis eyes are big, along with the iris. Night’s eyes were just as big, but the iris were slim slits, like a lizard. His long black hair was pulled behind his ears and over his shoulders, each side of his head framed by neon green highlights. Anyone who hasn't seen him fight would laugh when they saw Nightheart’s scrawny arms holding up his warhammer. Red marks crawled from behind his back and over his shoulders, a memento from his mother. He was wearing a white tank top, showing off the scars on his back. On his legs were jet black cotton pants. I teased him once or twice about wearing his PJ’s everywhere. The fact that his nose crunches every time he gets mad makes me want to poke at him every hour of the day. 

Nightheart waved his hand in front of my face, taking me out of my daydream. “Um, hello? It’s nice to see you, too,” he said, scratching his head.

I scampered over my words, trying to find something to say that wasn't anywhere close to ‘your fierce eyes make me tremble.’

I got my composure, straightened myself and glared at him, the flames over my eyebrows amplifying my illusion of anger. “Watch where you’re going, string bean,” I spat.

Night’s eyebrows rose in surprise, but he wisened up quickly and grinned. “Only if you look up, Miss Barbeque,” he retorted, pointing at the flames over my eyes.

I jabbed his arm, not enough to hurt, but just to push him a little bit. “You should be a lot more careful with who you talk to like that. Especially when they just learned how to turn their powers on.” I threatened. 

Night brushed off the hit and stepped back in place. “Well, good,” he muttered, his face meeting mine. “Now I don't have to kiss a statue,” he whispered, pecking my nose.

If I still had skin, I would be blushing. I had noticed how bold Nightheart has become since I’d finally given him a chance. Maybe it was the dragon pride creeping out, or maybe he finally grew some balls. Regardless of the reason, I returned the kiss and wrapped my arms around his neck. “You’re lucky I like you, pasty face.”

“Lucky, huh?” He chuckled. He looked me up and down, surprised by my form. “You look different, somehow,” he pondered.

“I think the word you're looking for is lithe.” I scoffed.

“Um,” he muttered shyly. This had been our relationship for the past month; insults, violence and just plain shyness. Honestly, it’s an improvement from first and only relationship. “Don't know what to say to that,” he muttered nervously.

“Don't say anything. And in the case that no one told you, there’s going to be a meeting before we take off. You ready to go?”

“Are you kidding?” He said in disbelief. “I’ve been ready to go since we got here!”


After taking a nap and losing track of time, I heard the bustle and crashing of plates outside my door. It was dinner time. “I’ve got to get a better room,” I muttered. My armor was gone, which was a good thing. Holding the armor was exhausting, and it seemed stamina was key to my magic. After spending so much time with my ‘Smoke’, as I had started calling it after seeing it come off Sheytan, I’ve noticed that the longer I hold the armor, the more tired I get. This included every other bit magic I threw around, hell, even using my weapons. Using all this stuff weakened me, forcing me to take naps throughout the day to avoid exhaustion. All this because I didn't want to be seen in my human form, ashamed at my old image. 

But that was then, and this is now. Now I have a real crew, a boyfriend that likes me the way I am, and friends that I’ve hidden things from for too long. I thought of all this as I washed my face in my bathroom. As pond water ran off my hands, I pulled back my hair and touched the scars over my left eye socket. I ran my hand over the deep healed tissue.  I remembered what had caused it, the pain I felt that day, and the agony I felt a day later.

“I failed you that day, Saddie, but I’m not going to this time,” I whispered to myself. “I’m coming for you, brother.”

I strolled out of my room, duster trailing behind me. I passed by everyone as they devoured their meals. I spotted Arige, the two meter tall alligator man trying to grip his fork with his huge meaty hands. Kitty was giving the punk twins Tick and Boom a hard time, pulling at their piercings and smearing Boom’s stolen makeup on Tick’s cheeks. Everyone was, in general, having a good time. But it all stopped the moment I stepped up to the head of the table. Nightheart was leaning against the fridge behind the table, Vito and Don sitting on either side of me.

I cleared my throat loudly. “Hello, everyone. I’d like to start off by thanking those of you who helped with the construction of the ship. You guys are making our departure tonight possible,” I announced. The table erupted with chatter, but stopped the moment I started talking again. “Yeah, that right, we’re leaving tonight. It’s time that we start our journey. Dumar and its treasure waits for no one, and the only ones that can even reach it is us,” I said, excitedly. “What's going to happen is this; we’re going to fly to Saddle Arabia, we’re going to find Dumar, and then use our various talents to break open its doors. That’s what the battle some of you heard of was about. Sheytan needed a piece of me in order to get into Dumar. Now I’m back in fighting condition, we can get back on track. Big Black!” I shouted. Black rounded a corner, a small metal box in his hands. “This new eye our master blacksmith has made for me will focus the power inside me so we can get past the traps in store for us once we find the city.”

As he got to me, a huge smile spread across his face as he opened the box. Inside was the same ball of onyx I saw earlier, only smaller and etched with luminescent runes. My eyes met Black’s and he nodded. I took the ball out of the box and held it in my hands. ”But before I do this, I want to come clean about myself. To all of you,” I said depressingly. I took a deep breath and looked to my friends in the crowd, everyone leaning toward me in curiousity. I sighed. “You’ve most likely heard my name during your time here. If not, most know me as Idilah Blood. In truth, this is a name I gave myself.” Mitchell and Nathan, who had been sitting together, looked at each other in confusion. “I know, shocking,” I said sarcastically.

“In reality, I changed the name long before I came here. I changed it in spite of my father, a jackass from before my birth. I resented my chosen name and so I changed it to something better. ‘Idilah’” I said with finger quotes. “Equal, in my ancestor’s tongue. I wanted to respect where my blood came from, and make myself feel adequate.” I looked to my feet and back to the crowd. “But that isn't the case anymore. I want you all to be able to trust me, so I can trust you in the days to come. So, I’ll tell you this; my true name is Jann De’nem, and real reason I’m here is find my brother.” I confessed. My friends looked confused, and so did the rest of the crew. I sighed harshly. “It’s Demon Blood, you idiots, that’s what I was called from birth.”

 “But, whatever. I got that off my chest.” I said, relieved. “This, my friends, marks the beginning of a new day. The day that you put your faith in me, or more importantly, the promises I make. Today, I promise to take you on a violence-filled ride of adventure and riches. I promise you, after this journey, you will be rich men and women. So long as you are loyal to me, you will have your share, and should you not make it, your families will.” I brought the ball to my eye and hesitated for second before shoving it into my empty socket.

It felt weird. Foreign. As if a seed was rooting itself into the socket. Heat spread across my face and suddenly, I could see my left side again. Having sight return was invigorating. I breathed in new air and lowered my hand. Everyone at the table just stared at me as I continued. “Today marks a new day in your lives, gentlemen. In all our lives. Today is your new life in... The Pride.”