[Current Balance: 11,744,410,874 R]
---AUGUST 13, 1714---
Forty-five days. That's how long La Providencia has left Bristol, and thirty-five or so days after leaving Lisbon.
They were deep in the vast and empty blue of the Atlantic ocean now as the coast of Europe was a distant memory while the shores of the New World (America) still weeks away.
The voyage had been relatively smooth, all things considered. No pirates had dared challenge the massive, well-armed galleon, and the weather, while not always cooperative, hadn't thrown anything truly dangerous at them since leaving Portugal.
It was mid-afternoon, a couple of hours after lunch time. On the quarterdeck, Alaric leaned against the railing, enjoying a peaceful smoke alongside William Penn. Nearby, Captain Oldgate was deep in conversation with his navigator, pointing at charts spread across a small table near the helm.
Penn, Alaric noted with satisfaction, looked considerably better than he had when he first... arrived... aboard the ship.
Weeks ago, Alaric had offered Penn one of his premium cigars, and the Quaker leader, perhaps seeking a stronger comfort than his usual cigarettes after the ordeal in London, had taken to them immediately. Since then, Alaric had kept both Penn and Oldgate well-supplied.
It wasn't just them, either.
Seeing Alaric puffing away constantly seemed to have sparked a trend. Bernard and Leonard Kenway had taken up the habit, enjoying a quiet smoke together after meals.
Thulani, surprisingly, had also developed a taste for them, finding a moment of calm contemplation in the ritual. Even Reuben, much to Alaric's amusement, had tentatively started smoking the occasional cigar, perhaps influenced by the others or maybe just curious about the rich aroma that always seemed to hang around Alaric.
'Must be the quality,' Alaric mused. 'Cigars from the Naruto world probably taste way better than anything else available.'
[Buy: Premium Cigar (Pack) - 10 R]
[Quantity: 42x]
[Total Deduction: - 420 R]
[Current Balance: 11,744,410,454 R]
'Should probably give the family that buff soon, too,' Alaric thought, taking a slow drag from his current cigar. 'Mum, Aunt Linette, Dad, Uncle Bernard... can't risk losing any of them if things get dicey in the colonies. Need to make sure they're protected.'
He exhaled, watching the smoke dissipate instantly in the strong ocean wind. He and Penn stood in comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying the feel of the sun and the endless expanse of the sea.
Alaric's long platinum-blonde hair whipped around his face, unrestrained, while Penn kept a firm hand clamped on his wide-brimmed hat to prevent it from sailing off towards the horizon.
Speaking of Penn... the man looked remarkably well. Not just rested, but... younger.
The deep lines of stress and age seemed lessened, his posture straighter, a certain vitality returned to his eyes that hadn't been there even before the London ordeal.
He easily looked a man in his vigorous fifties, rather than the seventy years Alaric knew him to be. He felt stronger too, less prone to the aches and fatigue that had begun to plague him in recent years.
How?
---Flashback---
A week after Penn was Hiraishin'ed into the La Providencia, the Kenway household and the ship's crew had lots of questions.
When asked, Alaric had only offered a cryptic, "Ah… didn't I tell you we'd meet William Penn on the way?" and brushed off their confusion with a promise they'd understand soon enough.
Now, Penn sat on a simple stool in his private cabin, his back turned to Alaric, while his upper garments were discarded. The lamp's glow revealed the fine lines of age that still lingered at his neck and shoulders.
Alaric stood behind him with his voice being low and gentle. "This might hurt."
Penn swallowed, placing a hand on his thigh. "How much?"
"Just a little," Alaric replied.
Penn nodded once, steeling himself.
Without another word, Alaric formed a single hand sign. His mind whispered the name of the seal.
'Ashura no Mon.'
Ink that was black as night came together to form one mass in the air above Penn's back, then split into three shimmering streaks that sank into his flesh. Penn's head snapped forward as a strangled shout could be heard... but no sound escaped, thanks to the silence fuinjutsu Alaric had laid earlier.
Penn's torso bucked and writhed under the burning tattoos. Steam hissed as the ink seared itself into his skin.
Minutes later, Penn lay panting, sweat drenching his back. His trembling fingers were on the stool's edge.
"Damn… Alaric, you fiend," he gasped, voice hoarse once the seal lifted. "That was… excruciating."
Alaric chuckled softly. "I promise it's you... it's worth it. Now sit still."
He reached forward, clasped Penn's wrist, and formed another hand sign.
'Hourglass of Samsara.'
Penn's eyes widened in alarm. He squeezed them shut, bracing for agony. Instead… nothing.
Tentatively, he opened his eyes. The cabin's lamp light revealed skin so smooth it seemed to glow. He flexed his fingers and felt strength surging through sinew that had grown weary with age. A laugh of astonishment broke from him.
He still looked old, but somewhere in the middle of the middle age bracket.
"It worked… you've made me…" He gazed at Alaric in wonder. "You've turned me fifty again."
"Just fifty... prime age for what lies ahead." Alaric's calm voice answered. 'It's not exactly prime...'
Penn ran a hand over his face, marveling at the absence of lines. "I… I can't believe it."
In the hush that followed, Penn now witnessed it firsthand: the impossible was real.
---Flashback End---
Alaric shook his head and dispelled the memory as he took another drag from his cigar while enjoying the salty air and the vastness of the ocean.
The rhythmic creaking of the ship and the distant calls of sailors around provided a peaceful backdrop. He glanced over at Penn, who seemed lost in his own thoughts while gazing at the horizon.
The silence stretched comfortably for a few more minutes before Penn let out a heavy sigh, breaking the spell.
"Alaric," Penn began, turning to face him, his expression troubled despite his rejuvenated appearance. "I must thank thee again for thy... encouragement... back in the cabin. Thy words gave me strength when I felt most lost." He paused, taking a puff from his own cigar. "But... I have been wrestling with it since. This notion of making Pennsylvania a kingdom, of raising arms against the Crown..."
He shook his head, looking genuinely conflicted. "It sits uneasily with me, friend. It is not in my heart to rule, nor to lead men into war, however just the cause might seem. And I made treaties, promises to the Lenape and Susquehannock tribes... promises of peace and coexistence under the Crown's ultimate authority. To declare independence, to potentially draw them into a conflict with England... I cannot reconcile it with my conscience or my faith."
Alaric listened patiently, nodding slightly. "I understand your hesitation, William. Your principles are why I respect you." He took a drag, considering. "But think on this: what happens if you don't assert Pennsylvania's autonomy? The Crown has already shown its hand. They broke faith with us, with Bristol. Do you truly believe they will honor their treaties with the tribes, or respect the governance of Pennsylvania, now that Queen Anne is gone and men who covet the land and its resources whisper in the new King's ear? Wouldn't they rather see you gone, your 'Holy Experiment' dismantled, so they can exploit the territory and its people as they please?"
Penn frowned, troubled by the undeniable logic. "My purpose in returning... it was primarily to ensure the safety of my family, to remove them from Pennsylvania before the Crown's displeasure fell upon them fully. I am a wanted man now, thanks to thy... dramatic extraction from London, no doubt."
"And once your family is safe?" Alaric pressed gently. "What then, William? Will you simply abandon the colony you poured your life into? Leave it to the wolves?"
Penn looked down at his hands, turning the cigar over and over. "I... I do not know," he admitted quietly, the uncertainty returning to his voice.
Alaric took another drag from his cigar, letting the silence hang for a moment before speaking again, with his tone shifting.
"I've been thinking," he said casually, "about acquiring... a place of my own. Somewhere private, secure. An island, perhaps."
Penn looked up, intrigued despite his own worries. "An island? Where?"
"Not sure yet," Alaric shrugged, gazing out at the waves. "Needs to be strategically located, defensible... but also somewhere I can build something new, away from the prying eyes of European powers." He smirked faintly. "Been considering Saint-Domingue, actually. The French hold it, but their grip seems... tenuous in places. Ripe for a change in management, perhaps."
Penn stared at him, momentarily speechless. Then he let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "Saint-Domingue? Take over a French colony? Alaric, thou art truly mad." He paused, studying the younger man's confident expression. "...But perhaps thou art just mad enough to actually achieve it."
Alaric grinned. "Time will tell. But when I do rule my own island paradise, William... will you come visit?"
Penn chuckled again, a bit more genuinely this time. The absurdity of the conversation seemed to lift some of his burden. "If thou canst truly carve out a kingdom in the Caribbean, lad? Aye, perhaps I'll do more than visit. Perhaps I'll seek refuge there myself."
"So," Alaric said, his tone becoming practical again, "we won't be staying long in Pennsylvania then, it seems. If you're planning on lying low after fetching your family... where do you think you'll go? You're right, you'll be hunted by the British wherever their flag flies."
Penn sighed, rubbing his temples. "I have considered options. Neutral ground, perhaps. Havana, while Spanish, is a major port with many comings and goings... easier to disappear there than in smaller settlements. Or perhaps Spanish La Florida, or even French Louisiana further west... though those territories are sparsely populated and fraught with their own dangers."
"Which sounds best to you?" Alaric asked.
Penn waved a dismissive hand. "It matters little for now. Secrecy is the priority. My family and I... we are not destitute, thanks to thy previous generosity and our own investments. We can live quietly for a time, until the political winds shift, or until..." He glanced at Alaric. "...until new opportunities arise."
Alaric shrugged. "What about Havana, then? Seems as good a place as any to disappear for a while. Busy port, Spanish rule, far from London's direct reach. It's a nice enough place, from what I hear."
Penn considered it, stroking his chin. "Yes... Havana holds possibilities. I shall give it thought."
Alaric nodded, accepting the answer. He took another slow drag from his cigar, savoring the taste and the moment of relative calm. But then, his always passively alert senses picked up something on the edge of his perception.
His eyes narrowed slightly, his head turning almost imperceptibly towards the southeast horizon.
Penn noticed the subtle shift in Alaric's demeanor immediately. "What is it, lad?" he asked, his own gaze following Alaric's.
A slow, dangerous smirk spread across Alaric's face. He flicked the ash from his cigar overboard with a flick of his wrist. "Heh..."
"Pirates."
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