Life aboard the ship was thoroughly uneventful.
The large seagoing vessel had departed from Dundorma Harbor and taken five days to cross the Inland Sea, pass through Geo Wandreo's artificial canal, and traverse the land bridge.
Driven by the Old Sea's winter winds and currents, the vessel began to pick up speed. After eight more uneventful days of sailing, their destination, Tidal Island, was already visible in the distance.
"Altaïr! Open the door! I can already see the coastline!" Isis pounded excitedly on the door.
She did not enjoy life aboard ship.
The space was too cramped; she had to duck her head to pass through many of the cabin doors and corridors.
Life at sea was also far too dull. There was not even any basic exercise equipment aboard. Calisthenics? At her level of physical fitness, calisthenics did nothing for her.
Even her daily practice swings had to be performed with care, for fear of running into someone or smashing through a deck plank. She simply could not cut loose.
When she heard a lookout shout from the deck that the coastline was in sight, she was so excited that she nearly jumped for joy.
She wanted nothing more than to set foot on land, rip a coconut tree out of the ground, and give her limbs a proper stretch!
The door finally opened under the force of her pounding. It was not Altaïr who answered, however, but Morgan, his cabinmate.
The petite young man, whose features were as delicate as a doll's, wore pure black button-up pajamas with a high collar. His expression was calm, or perhaps simply blank.
Nothing about his demeanor, movements, or choice of clothing could be called "feminine."
Yet there was still something strangely incongruous about him.
To anyone unfamiliar with him, nine out of ten people would assume he was a beautiful, aloof young woman who preferred a masculine manner of speech and dress.
The tenth probably needed their eyes checked.
Faced with Morgan's calm gaze, Isis grew a little embarrassed. Her noisy pounding had, in truth, been rather rude.
"Sorry, Mr. Morgan. I was too loud," Isis said, scratching the back of her head.
Morgan was neither bothered nor upset. He simply wore his usual stoic expression, a useful defense against the swarms of admirers drawn to his face.
"Thirteen days? That's a little faster than the fifteen days planned," Altaïr said as he appeared behind Morgan.
The two had gotten along quite well over the past few days. Both were calm and quiet. Rooming with a chatterbox like Theo might have given Altaïr a headache, but Morgan was an ideal cabinmate, reserved yet perfectly capable of communicating whenever the need arose.
Isis's eyes widened slightly. She had never considered Altaïr particularly tall, but with the petite Morgan standing directly in front of him, she realized he was taller and broader than most people.
Is he really this tall? The thought suddenly popped into Isis's mind.
For reasons she could not quite understand, her expression flickered and the words on her lips died. Wait, what was I going to say?
"Do you need us to assemble?" Morgan asked tentatively.
"Ah, right! The Village Chief wants everyone to assemble in full gear. He has a mission for us." Remembering the urgency of the matter, Isis hurriedly spoke up.
Altaïr nodded, pulled off his sleepwear without the slightest self-consciousness, and, now bare-chested, picked up his armor's padded lining from the rack beside him.
He and Isis were so accustomed to each other's presence that he had almost forgotten that changing clothes in front of a woman was not exactly appropriate.
Morgan, on the other hand, looked a little troubled as he glanced at Isis blocking the doorway. "Miss Isis, unless you have other urgent business, we need to close the door and change."
"Ah, sorry, sorry! I'm leaving right now!" Snapping back to reality, Isis quickly took several steps back, ducked her head, and scurried to her own cabin.
Inside, Nymera had already donned her armor and stood hesitating before the weapon rack. When she heard Isis enter, she asked without turning around.
"Isis, which Bowgun do you think I should take?"
Isis did not reply.
Puzzled, Nymera looked back and found that Isis had not even closed the door. She was staring blankly out into the corridor.
Nymera walked up behind her and followed her gaze to Altaïr and Morgan's cabin.
"?" Nymera blinked, squeezed in beside Isis, and tilted her head to study her.
Only then did Isis come to her senses and close the door with a guilty-sounding "snap."
"What's wrong?" Nymera could not help asking.
Isis could not explain it herself. Wearing an odd expression, she donned her Lagiacrus Armor Set and slung the Glavenus Gunlance onto the harness on her back.
Seeing that Isis would not answer, Nymera did not press her. After weighing her options, she selected the versatile Valkyrie Fire and fastened a standard Ammo belt around her waist.
Once fully armed, the two women opened the door and stepped into the corridor.
Altaïr and Morgan had finished preparing before them and were already walking toward the galley, chatting as they went.
Isis faltered again. Following close behind, Nymera nearly smacked her head into the Large Shield on Isis's back.
Annoyed, Nymera stepped around Isis and was about to say something when she looked up and saw the two men walking away side by side. She, too, froze for a moment.
Seeing Nymera react the same way, Isis waved her hands helplessly, then spread them before her. "I mean, I can't really put it into words, but it feels strange, doesn't it?"
Nymera nearly burst out laughing, but she clamped her lips shut, making her cheeks puff out.
She rubbed her face to compose herself, looked up at Isis, and almost lost control again. She quickly lowered her head, patted Isis firmly on the shoulder several times, took a deep breath, and barely managed to pull herself together.
Nymera tensed every muscle to keep a straight face. Her usual blend of formal and casual diction deserted her as she contorted her mouth and forced out, "No, not strange at all!"
Then she squeezed past Isis and quickened her pace. Right now, she just wanted someone to share this with!
She hurried all the way to the galley, where most of the other Hunters had already gathered.
This was not something she could blurt out to just anyone. Francesca was obviously the best person to tell, but unfortunately, she had not appeared. She was probably busy coordinating the landing operation. Surely she was not sleeping in?
With sarcastic comments practically bursting from her mouth, Nymera finally spotted two suitable confidants. Sajji and Clawdia had arrived even earlier and were bickering, so she seized them both and drew them into a corner of the galley, where the three huddled together and whispered.
"Meow?" Sajji poked his head out and glanced over at Altaïr and Morgan.
Perhaps because all four were men, Altaïr and Morgan had joined Dawn and the talkative Theo and were discussing something together.
Then Isis squeezed into the huddle as well.
"You call that jealousy, meow?" Sajji gave Nymera a strange look.
Nymera nodded solemnly. "Without a doubt."
"No way, meow!" Clawdia's tail bristled, and she bared her fangs.
Neither Sajji nor Nymera paid her any attention.
"Didn't you know you're quite popular with the male Hunters too, meow?" Sajji abruptly changed the subject.
"?" Nymera did not understand why Sajji had turned the discussion toward her.
"You're a woman, prettier and bustier than Morgan, and you've known the Boss longer and are closer to him. Yet Isis never got jealous when you two were together, meow. Do you really think she'd get jealous over Mr. Morgan? Stupid, meow."
Nymera's eye twitched, and she barely restrained the urge to punch Sajji on the head.
Sajji folded his arms and shook his head. "This is clearly because Isis felt her position as the Boss's 'best buddy' was being threatened, and it rattled her, meow."
"..." Nymera fell silent.
What Sajji said did make sense.
"The stupid one is you, meow." A lazy voice sounded from behind the trio.
Clawdia flinched and whipped around. Pawdrick had somehow appeared beside them and was picking at his golden mane with one claw.
He seemed to have heard everything they had said.
Pawdrick reached out and tapped Sajji on the head, then glanced back at the crowd. "Isis is smarter than you think, meow. It's not as simple or shallow as jealousy, meow.
Morgan's arrival blurred the line between being 'one of the guys' and being seen as a woman, meow. That is precisely the question Isis has been trying so hard to avoid, meow.
What truly shook her was realizing that any of this had unsettled her in the first place, meow."
Clawdia listened in utter bewilderment, but she could not stand seeing Pawdrick put on this "I know everything" act, especially when it came to Isis!
"As if you know everything, meow..."
"Stupid little sister." Pawdrick tossed his mane and pointed two claws at his eyes. "These eyes see everything, meow."