Lumiere remembered his final moments with his father figure. The priest's name was Claude, an elderly man with long, groomed whiskers and a missing eye. He had been suffering from haemorrhages for the past ten years, and he was finally on death's door after a long struggle.
He lay in his bed, blood gushing from his nose. By his side sat Lumiere, whom he had given the last years of his life to—raising him into the man he was today.
"How are you feeling, Father?" Lumiere asked softly.
Claude coughed out some blood.
"I've got no time left, my boy. I want you to have this."
He slowly took off his prayer beads with his pale and weak hands.
"My father gave me this when I was just a boy. I meant to give it to your mother, but sadly, she isn't with us anymore."
"Please, Dad, tell me who my mother was," Lumiere inquired, a hint of desperation in his voice.
Claude chuckled.
"You know I'm not your dad. I still loved your mom very much, though—and her death was the worst day of my life."
Lumiere bowed his head in defeat.
"Then tell me about my father."
Claude paused to think for a second.
"He was a good young man, rebellious sort though. He loved you with all his heart, but he just couldn't handle his wife's passing."
Claude suddenly burst into a coughing fit, blood flying from his nose and mouth.
Lumiere quickly came closer to his side.
"Hang on—I'll get you some water—"
Claude interrupted him.
"Don't bother. I'll probably be gone by the time you get it."
Lumiere knelt down, tears beginning to rush. His father held his face and lifted it back up.
"You're just like your mother, you know that?"
Claude let out a weak smile as the light slowly faded from his eyes. He died, truly at peace.
"Lumiere stirred awake, the ghost of Claude's final words still echoing in his mind. A sharp ringing split the silence—then the scent of smoke, the crackle of fire. He turned, and the world came rushing in: the ship's remains were ablaze."
"What's going on?" he asked, his voice cracking with panic.
Wilhelm was curled up in a corner of the lifeboat, quietly sobbing to himself. Moses sat in stunned silence, eyes fixed on the wreckage—equal parts horror and disbelief. Lumiere tried to get his attention, but Moses didn't even flinch.
The rest of the soldiers aboard the small vessel were silent. Some prayed under their breath. Others simply stared down at their feet, hollow-eyed.
Tao-Da approached. His face was stricken with guilt and sorrow.
"I don't know what to do anymore…" he muttered, sitting beside Lumiere. "Most of our soldiers are dead, and all of our equipment—other than what's on hand—is gone."
He buried his face in his palms. Lumiere felt puzzled for a second, his chest felt tight and he felt a slight regret at the fact that he slept through whatever happened.
"This is my fault. They're all dead because of my selfish desire."
Lumiere gently reached out, resting a hand on the prince's bowed head.
"What happened?" he asked softly.
Tao-Da drew a shaky breath and bent further into his hands before explaining. As he recounted the events, Moses blinked and finally snapped out of his trance. Quietly, he made his way over to Wilhelm.
"I'm sorry, Wilhelm," was all he could say.
Wilhelm didn't look up.
"Why… why couldn't I save him?" His sobs grew louder. "My own little brother suffered and died, and I just stood there…"
Moses knelt down beside him.
"And what could you have done?"
"Something," Wilhelm replied bitterly. "Anything to stop him."
Moses tried to reason with him. "Not even trained soldiers could stop him. You would've just gotten yourself killed."
Wilhelm struck himself lightly on the side of his head.
"I could've distracted him. At least August could've gotten away…"
Moses had no answer. He simply wrapped an arm around his friend's back, holding him close. They sat like that for a long moment, silent, save for Wilhelm's quiet cries.
Eventually, Moses spoke.
"Come on, Wilhelm… we'll go back home. We'll have a funeral for him."
Tao-Da walked toward them, slowly.
"That's right," he said.
He went down on one knee.
"I've failed you. I'll bring you back to France, and you'll all receive the compensation you were promised."
Wilhelm was quiet for a moment. Then, slowly, he stood. His face hardened.
"No," he said flatly.
Everyone turned, stunned.
He reached forward, grabbed Tao-Da by the collar, and pulled him close.
"My brother died for this crusade," he growled, voice rising. "There's no chance in hell I'm going back without finishing this."
He released Tao-Da's collar and drew a deep, shaky breath.
"Everyone here has their own reasons for doing this—especially you. So we're seeing this through to the end."
The boat fell into stunned silence.
Tao-Da looked around at the weary, broken faces of the soldiers. Then, with newfound resolve, he stepped toward the center of the lifeboat.
"You all heard Wilhelm," he said, voice steady. "This is what we signed up for. You may each have your own reasons… but the fact remains: we have a duty to persevere."
He looked around once more.
"We may mourn our losses in our hearts… but our mission remains the same."
For a moment, the sea was quiet.
Then, slowly—hesitantly—the soldiers began to cheer. It wasn't joyful, but there was fire in it. A fire they thought had been lost.
"After a grueling day and a half at sea, the lifeboat finally reached dry land—to the immense relief of everyone aboard."
After trekking up the coast and towards a village, it became apparent where they had arrived. They had washed up on the northwest coast of Sardinia which was a cause for celebration for the group due to its proper population.
Upon reaching the town, the group faced another issue: all their money had gone down with the ship. Luckily they had just enough money to buy a hotel room for the night however this also posed a problem as under a roll call.
There were fifteen of them combined which made the room cramped and some of the men even had to sleep outside in the hall. Other than the four men there were a few notable figures.
Among the survivors was a young Russian priest named Kolya, drafted for religious reasons. He had studied in a French church and met the prince while on route to the university.
There was also Idris, a Muslim whose family lived in Jerusalem—imprisoned by the Sultan for reasons unknown. His quiet intensity hinted at a deeper personal stake in the mission. Half of his body was heavily scarred with burns from the fire and thus covered in bandages.
Christoff, another student, was saved by sheer luck—he had leapt into the sea during the blaze and was pulled into the lifeboat.
The rest were soldiers, most unremarkable save for one: a much shorter, thinner individual who coughed incessantly.
The group crammed themselves around a small table inside the hotel room to discuss their next course of action.
"Do any of you have a map of Europe" asked Tao-da "Usually one of my retainers would have one to hand but the only one we brought with us died and the rest are back in Paris"
The small soldier unfurled a crumpled map across the table, their thin hands trembling slightly.
"I grabbed it before the fire spread," they said, voice high-pitched but firm. "Figured we'd need it."
Everyone leaned in.
Tao-Da gave a sheepish smile. "You've just earned your keep." blinking in surprise, he scratched the back of his neck.
"Er… What's your name again?"
"Forget the names—we don't have time for that," Wilhelm snapped. "We need a plan."
The prince jumped at this slightly but carried on
"Yes of course… Since we're short on funds we'll have to limit our use of transport by sea. We will need a ship to get off of this island though. Then we'll travel by mainland until we reach Athens where we will need to get another vessel to reach Cyprus. It would be too much of a risk going through Turkey. And we need the resistance—without their help, there's no hope of claiming Jerusalem."
A heavy silence fell over the room.
Idris spoke up for the first time since the crusade began. He stood with his arms crossed in a corner of the room.
"And how do you suppose we even get off this island? We don't have the funds to hire a ship and we don't have the time to work for it."
He scratched the bandage over his neck as he slowly stepped over the heavily cramped table. He had a distinct scent of ash seething from him.
"I say we steal a ship from the docks. Nothing large—just something that can carry us all." If we do that then we can go straight to Cyprus and skip this whole drawn out journey."
Kolya cut in before he could continue.
"You suggest we steal on a holy crusade? That's comical, it defeats the entire purpose"
Idris snapped back; slamming his fist against the table.
"It's for a good purpose, Allah will understand and besides, how do you suggest we travel hundreds of miles by land?"
"By walking if we have to; I refuse to build this crusade on sin"
As the two of them argued, a drunken man stumbled through the halls. He had long unkempt brown hair and a scruffy beard to suit. He wore a tattered navy uniform which clearly hadn't been washed in weeks which benefited his stench of booze. Must be noted however that he kept a polished sabre sheathed on his right hip.
As he stumbled past the room he caught wind of the commotion unfolding in the room next to him.
He put his ear to the door and caught mention of a couple key words. Those being "Ship", "Jerusalem" and "Journey".
He drunkenly decided that it was a good idea to burst through the door. He stumbled towards the table and squeezed in a seat. No one there said anything for a couple moments, simply stared at him.
Tao-da, feeling that it was his responsibility; finally spoke up.
"Can we help you?"
The man abruptly interrupted him.
"Yeah, name's Julian. Heard from a friend you folks were looking for a ship."
The prince leaned in.
"Elaborate sir?"
Julian smirked pridefully "Well I'm the captain of a massive ship you see and I'd be happy to take the lot of you."
Tao-da's eyes lit up in excitement
"Yes that's amazing we would be happy to…"
Moses interrupted him, whispering in his ear.
"We can't just trust this guy. We don't know anything about him or what he wants!"
The simple-minded prince nodded as if this was astounding information. He squinted dramatically, trying to look discerning—but the effect was more like a child pretending to be a general.
"How can we trust you?" he demanded towards the drunken sailor.
Julian blinked, clearly unsure whether the prince was serious.
"I'll take you down there right now if you like"
Tao-da looked back towards Moses as if he was looking for approval from his retainer. Moses realised this and simply gave him a slight nod.
"The prince, satisfied with the nod, leaned toward the table. 'Okay, Julian—what are your conditions?'"
Julian grinned gleefully "Only one condition, I want you to take me to Jerusalem with you"
The room fell silent again.
"That's it?" Lumiere finally added to the conversation.
Julian grinned wider, eyes glittering. "Oh, I've got my reasons."