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In The Mist Of The Erie Isles

By Mantrid Brizon

Episode Forty-Three: Preparation

“Like this?”

Glancing back, Valan watches Jarae as she holds the bucket. Containing raw Pitania and base oils, it’s the very same mixture that Salman had taught him. She holds the full bucket over a large chest of coal, still in its original and unaltered state.

“Yeah. Just pour it slow and try to let it all soak in.”

She begins to pour, the viscous fluid oozing over the black chips and staining them a dark purple color.

“I’m glad we bought so much coal, but this is very tedious work!”

“That’s probably why it’s so costly.” He remarks.

“Why isn’t Sal helping?” She asks.

“He’s studying.”

“Still? I thought he’d give that up by now.”

“I think he’s sincere.” He retorts.

“Are you sure it isn’t something else?”

“What do you mean?”

Jarae glances over her shoulder, hesitant to reply. She returns her focus to the bucket, tipping it upside down as she finishes pouring the substance.

“Well... He seems to really enjoy his studies, and Lutala’s company. She seems to enjoy his company, too... A lot.”

“You think it’s a ploy to get close to her?!” He raises a brow.

“Why not? It’s not so unusual, taking interest in things that your would-be partner enjoys.”

“But he doesn’t enjoy his training with Kirsta, and he still does that every day. Besides, Sal isn’t Mair, so I doubt he’s trying to work on either of them.” He remarks.

“Kirsta doesn’t need any extra work; they’ve already slept together.” She chuckles.

“What an odd couple they'd make.” He laughs. “Still, my point was that if he wanted too, the Seraph’s know he could likely bed them both if he tried. I don’t think you’re giving my brother enough credit.”

“We’ll see.”

Returning the bucket to Valan, Jarae rests her clawed fingers over the back of his hands, gently touching him. She carefully rakes her claws against his flesh, her soft fur warming his skin. He gulps as he gazes deeply into her shimmering, pink eyes.

“All done.” She coos.

“Good... So, uhm... I wanted to ask you something.” He nervously begins.

“Oh?”

“Is that why you spend so much time down here?”

“Huh?!” She swiftly pulls her hands away.

“Well, a minute ago you suggested that Sal was trying to get close to Lutala by taking interest in her faith... Is that why you’re down here in the workshop so much? To spend time with me?”

“...”

“Because you don’t need to. We could do something else; whatever you prefer is fine by me. I just enjoy your company... I enjoy it very much.”

“Val...” She chokes out.

“Please, just hear me out! I know things have been strained between us, especially after what happened that day at the cove. That’s why I haven’t spoken of it these past few days. Aside from how hectic things have been, racing from island to island, I thought it best to let that be.”

“And I appreciate that.” She murmurs.

“But I can’t let it be any longer...”

He steps closers, causing her to back away. Jarae’s back bumps the wall as Valan extends an arm, resting a palm on the wall, his hand just above her shoulder.

“I can’t get it out of my head. I can’t stop thinking about you, Jarae.”

“Ih-is this because we had sex? D-did you want to do that again?” She sheepishly asks him, turning her head and glancing over at his forearm. “We can, if you want.”

“I know. You’ve said before that you we could have sex, and you always seem open to sleeping with me, but sex doesn’t make me feel better, Jarae. When you and I are together, that makes me feel better, even if all we do is this... What’s I’m trying to say is that I... I think... I mean, I really-”

“No!”

Jarae pushes his arm away and takes a few swift steps toward the door.

“Wait!” He cries out.

She pauses, standing as still as a statue for a moment. Reaching out a hand, she grips the doorframe, her claws digging into the wood as she squeezes. Slowly turning back, she glances over her shoulder at him.

“Please, Jarae, don’t go! I hate it when you run from me...” He whimpers.

“Don’t say it, Val.”

“Why not?”

“Because...”

“But why?! Tell me what’s wrong. Is it because I’m a human?”

“That’s not it!” She exclaims.

“Then what is it?! Is it because you don’t feel it either? If all you care for is my body, then just say so, but don’t leave me like this!”

“I... I just...”

Jarae’s breath shakes, her words catching in her throat. Before she can summon the strength to answer, her body reacts. She bolts from the workshop, ignoring Valan’s cries. He beckons for her to return, but she cannot help herself. Dashing up the stairs, she barrels through the hallway and barges into the cabin she shares with Lutala.

“So, Yashuva allowed the prophet to be sacrificed?!” Salman asks.

“Yes, so that we might have his word and enjoy the grace of salvation.” Lutala answers.

“Oh, hi, Jarae!”

“I’m sorry... I-I didn’t mean to, uhm... Should I go?”

Salman and Lutala both furl their brows and glance at each other. They can see the distress on the Jaliscan’s face.

“I’m just going to go! I’m sorry for interrupting!”

“No, that’s alright. We’re done already.”

“We are?!” Lutala turns to Salman.

He gives her a look, and Lutala swiftly recants.

“Yes, we are!”

“Are you sure?!” Jarae asks in an anxious tone.

“I just needed to ask some follow-up questions; absorb all of my previous lessons.” Salman assures her.

“Oh, okay.” Jarae breathes a sigh of relief.

“Well, I’ll leave you two for the day. See you at dinner?” He turns to Lutala.

“Of course.” Lutala smiles warmly at the human.

Waving at Jarae, Salman swiftly leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

“So...” Lutala approaches her roommate. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re a much better liar, Jarae.” She giggles. “If you want me to leave you alone, at least put some effort into it.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just... It’s personal.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“I’m not worried, just concerned.”

“Is there a difference?”

Lutala takes a seat at the edge of Jarae’s cot, motioning for the Jaliscan to join her. She sits beside the Lahnyt, who scans her with her fiery eyes in an eerie silence. The priestess inhales through her nostrils, slowly exhaling and cocking her head.

“Was it him, or you?” She suddenly asks.

“Huh?!”

“You only ever look this distressed when it involves Valan.”

Jarae can feel the pressure building. She reaches up and places her hands upon her head, her clawed fingers weaving through her wild, pink hair. Staring down at her own feet, her heart races. It’s so much work to hold in her feelings.

“I’m just wondering if you’re feeling guilty, or if he made you uncomf-”

“I don’t know why I keep doing this.” Jarae suddenly speaks, cutting off Lutala. “I don’t want to! I just can’t help myself.”

“What’re you talking about?”

Reaching into a small pouch on her belt, Jarae retrieves what looks like a lump of coal. Turning her hand over, she uncoils her fingers, revealing the artifact to the Lahnyt woman. Lutala’s eyes grow wide and she reaches out a hand, carefully collecting the object. She marvels at a carving, painstakingly whittled from a modest lump of coal. It depicts two people, standing side by side. One is a human, and clearly a man. He looks a lot like Valan, complete with a long goatee. Beside the man stands a Jaliscan woman, only marginally shorter than him.

Her features aren’t as well defined, but she has an identically proportioned body and wild hair, pulled back and tied into a high ponytail, just like Jarae’s. The man has an arm around the woman’s waist, while the woman’s tail is curled to one side and hooking the man’s waist. One of her arms is also wrapped around the man’s torso, her clawed fingers emerging from just beneath his armpit. Their outermost hands are stretched across their bodies, reaching toward the other and holding the other’s hand. From the undefined ball, Lutala can visualize Valan and Jarae’s fingers intertwined. Both are shown smiling.

“Oh, my Lord... This is beautiful!” Lutala gushes. “Is this you and Valan?!”

Jarae merely nods.

“I don’t understand. Why carve this if you don’t wish to be with him?”

“But I do wish to be with him! I’m just...”

“Just what? ... You can talk to me, Jarae. Nothing you say will leave this room.”

“I’m afraid.” Jarae speaks in a hushed voice.

Lutala blinks, her eyes growing wide and brow raising in surprise. She hadn’t expected that answer from the otherwise strong and confident woman. She gently sets the figurine back in Jarae’s hand, who stares intently at it.

“What are you so afraid of? What could possibly keep that hidden away? If a man loved me enough to depict me in wood or stone or oil, I’d be overjoyed, and I’m certain Valan would feel the same way. What’s stopping you?”

“Everything!” Jarae exclaims.

Leaping to her feet, she paces back and forth as she rambles, her anxiety and fear pouring out of her all at once.

“What if I accept him and he betrays me? I could never handle the pain. He’s the most dangerous person to me, because I hang on his every word. A man has never had so much control over me before, and it’s terrifying! Or what if I betray him?! What if I’m put into a position where I only have one option, and I’m forced to betray him to escape?! Would he forgive me, if I were to have sex with someone else in order to survive? I’ve done it many times, long before I met him, but now that he’s in my life, it fills me with concern; I’ve only ever been good at sex and sneak-thievery.”

Lutala’s face flushes as Jarae speaks. The priestess briefly averts her eyes.

“Or worse yet, what if I choose to betray him?!?! What if our love sours and I lash out? I can’t imagine doing it, but what if I do?! I could never live with myself if I ever saw him in such agony! What if the Crown catches us and I lose him in battle, or he’s executed?! The thought of living without him... It’s... By the Seraphs.”

She sniffles, wiping a little tear away with a thumb.

“What if I can’t commit, and the pressure is too much to handle? My first instinct has and likely always will be to run... I do it so well; I’ve been running for over a decade. What if he asks for my hand, and on that faithful day, when we’re to bond ourselves together, I panic and flee? What if we survive all of this, and we move to an island to live in peace, and the people there aren’t pleased about a human and a Jaliscan sharing their lives? What if we’re forced to fight, or run because of what we share?”

“Jarae...”

“What if we have children and they aren’t welcomed in this world because they’re half breeds?

“Jarae.” Lutala rises to her feet.

“How can I ever take such a chance when there’s so much that can go wrong?!”

“JARAE!”

“What?”

Lutala steps closer to the Jaliscan, reaching out her hands and grasping gently to her biceps.

“You’re overthinking all of this.” Lutala begins.

“Am I? You cannot deny the horrible possibilities, just lying in wait to ruin what good we could otherwise enjoy.”

“But is that going to stop you from living your life? Do you hide away from the world because you might get sick, or fall and injure yourself? No. You take risks because the rewards are so great. If you succumb to your fears, the only thing you’re doing is closing the doors to a potentially joyous future.”

“But... What if I can’t overcome my fears? What if I’m unable to let my heart have its way?” Jarae whimpers.

“You don’t have many options, Jarae. You’re a pot of water coming to a boil. You either need to throw in the meat and potatoes and let them cook, or quench the flames altogether... Do you understand what I mean?”

“I think so...”

“Defecate or get out of the privy, as I heard a crude villager once say. Take some time to think about it, and feel free to speak to me if you ever feel the need. You don’t have to go through this alone.” Lutala pats her shoulder and flashes a warm smile.

“Thank you.” Jarae throws her arms around Lutala, embracing the Lahnyt. “You’re a wonderful person, and a good friend.”

Standing in the hallway, Salman glances back at the closed door. He’s overcome by the urge to listen in, which only grows stronger as he hears Jarae’s and Lutala’s muffled voices. However, he recalls his lessons. Shaking the thought from his mind, he merely walks toward the lounge, his flowing robes swishing behind him. Stepping inside, he finds Naemen at the table. He leans into the corner of the dining booth, and appears to be napping. His clawed hands are clasped together, resting over his chest. Walking inside of the room, the green-skinned Lahnyt half breed opens his eyes.

“Oh, hey, Sal!” He chirps, sitting up.

“Hi, Naemen.”

“It’s good to see you. Is it time for me to cook already?” Naemen asks, glancing back and out of the windows behind him.

“No. We just finished early.”

“Getting comfortable, eh?” Naemen smirks.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I remember I had this one girl-”

“A girl?” Salman smirks and raises a brow.

“Alright, so she was my favorite whore. Anyways, we got to be so comfortable with each other that she’d lose her voice a little faster each time, and I started shooting my pistol a little earlier, too, if you know what I mean.” Naemen winks.

“If Lutala and I were that familiar, then she wouldn’t be walking afterward.” Salman retorts.

“Aren’t we confident!”

“Just speaking from experience.”

“And here I thought priests were terrible in bed.” Naemen teases.

“Well, I have a whole lot of faith. It’s often too much for some women to handle.” Salman quips.

“Hah! Are you hungry, buddy?”

“Not really.”

“Well, I’m hungry. I’ll whip us up a snack.” Naemen says as he scoots out of the booth.

“Hey, have either of you seen Jarae?” Valan asks as he suddenly steps inside.

“Hello to you too, brother.”

“I’m sorry. How are you, Sal?”

“I’m fine, thanks, and Jarae’s in her cabin, with Lutala.”

“Oh...”

“Yeah, I’m doing well, too. Thanks for asking.” Naemen remarks.

Shifting his gaze between Salman and Naemen for a brief moment, Valan eventually turns and slithers out of the lounge. The pair glance toward each other.

“Those two are like an old, married couple.” Naemen quietly snickers.

“I’m not sure you’re using that expression correctly...”

“Anyway, let me make you something to eat.”

“That’s really not necessary.” Salman raises and waves a hand.

“Oh, come on! If it makes you feel better, Salasha’s been helping me with my recipes.”

“Really?! ... Well, maybe... ... No.” Salman shakes his head. “It’s not good to eat when you aren’t hungry.”

“Shut up and eat my food!”

Walking through the hall, Valan glances toward the closed cabin door. He hears the muffled voices coming faintly through the wooden barrier, and wonders what Jarae and Lutala are speaking about. Is she confiding in the Lahnyt, or is she ignoring all that he’d said and running away like she always does? He lets out a melancholy sigh and turns around, dragging his feet as he passes by the lounge and continues down the steps. As he turns the corner and continues toward his workshop, Trellan’s hologram appears, floating just above the onyx plate mounted atop a pedestal at the end of the corridor.

“Well, you look happy!” The old Vizhek chirps.

Valan glares at the translucent image, narrowing his blue-green eyes.

“What is it now?” He grumbles.

“Is that any way to talk to your house? Here I am letting you live inside of me and you give me an attitude.” Trellan smirks.

“If you want to be specific, you’re not Arona; you’re captured soul is just controlling her.”

“It sounds funnier my way.”

“Anyway, what’s wrong, Trellan?”

“Nothing. I’m just letting you all know that Vaspania is on the horizon. We’ll be moored before dusk.”

“Already?!” Valan gasps.

“Fastest ship on the ocean, remember? We really cut down on the trip back with all of that delicious fuel. Thanks for feeding me, by the way.” Trellan’s hologram joking pats his pouch of a belly.

“I’ll tell the others, then.”

“Don’t bother. I warned Steingar and Kirsta first. I just happened to see you skulking about and thought you’d like to hear it from me”

“Well, thanks...” Valan sighs.

“... She really does care for you, you know.”

“Jarae? Heh... It’s so easy for everyone else to say that, but I sometimes feel differently. I don’t like how she can’t confront me about whatever it is we have.”

“You don’t know all of her secrets, Valan.”

“Oh, and I suppose you do?!” The human growls.

“I know one or two. Just trust me when I say that you shouldn’t lose hope.”

“You’re too nosey. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“All throughout my life.” A smirking Trellan chuckles. “If I were you, I’d go back up to the lounge and wait. You know Steingar is going to want a plan in place.”

Nodding his head, Valan once again climbs the steps, returning to the middle deck, the area containing the living quarters and lounge. As he climbs, he can hear Steingar calling out for people, with Roak helping him in his typical childlike manner.

“Fur man says come on! Come to the big room, or he’ll eat you!” Roak exclaims.

“He can eat me, if he wants.” Mairlynn coos.

“Little elf wants to be eaten?! But what about when fur man has to go to the privy!” The confused Roak asks.

“Ugh... Fool.” She murmurs. “Oh, hey, Val.”

Her tune changes as soon as she sets her ruby eyes upon the gunman, who emerges from the stairwell.

“Hey...”

Valan’s attention is focused elsewhere, as the cabin door to Jarae’s and Lutala’s room opens and the two women emerge. The Jaliscan turns her attention toward the human, gazing upon him for a moment before swiftly averting her eyes. She passes him by, walking beside Lutala as they enter the lounge. Standing beside the archway, Valan looks inside. Approaching the human, Steingar reaches out and pats his arm.

“Come on, buddy.” He says, draping an arm over his shoulders. “We’ve got things to do.”

Gathered around the table, with their weapons and equipment ready, Salman, Naemen, Jarae and Lutala sit on one side of the table. Standing at the edge, Kirsta and Steingar watch them.

“Are you ready for this?” Steingar turns toward Kirsta.

“Yeah.” She nods. “We’ll hold up our end, just so long as the rest of you are ready for what comes next.

“We’ve got this.” Naemen assures her.

“Don’t you worry, Kirsta. I’ve planned this all out. I pay particularly close attention to the finer details.” Salman adds, smiling warmly at her.

“Yeah, I know.” Kirsta smiles back, her alabaster cheeks taking on a rosy hue.

“... Should we leave the room?” Steingar teases.

“Shut up!” Kirsta snaps.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be a pain, but why are we sending them, again?” Salasha speaks up.

“We’ve been over this. Lutala, Mairlynn and I are going to infiltrate the local guild hall of the Bounty Hunters and make sure we’re still free to move.” Kirsta replies.

“But they’ve already seen you!” Salasha exclaims.

“I’m fairly certain we outran Captain Mayweather.” Steingar chuckles.

“I’m not talking about him... When you told me what happened, with Hirus and the dungeon, you were seen by guards, and you didn’t kill them all.”

The group’s collective eyes widen as the green-skinned, Lahnyt half breed speaks.

“What if you walk into that guild hall and they arrest you on sight? Wouldn’t it be safer to just skip that step?”

“The plan aside, we need information. How else are we going to get it?” Mairlynn asks.

“Well... You were already going, and no one’s seen you yet...”

“That’s right!” Irzain exclaims.

“I think that’s a better idea.” Lutala interjects.

“Do you think she could get in by herself?” Jarae asks the others.

“Woah, wait a minute!” Mairlynn exclaims.

“I think so! She’s done similar before.” Valan chirps.

“So, we’ll just send her, then.” Kirsta remarks.

“How about you ask her how she feels about it, first!” Mairlynn growls.

“Oh, come on! You know you can do it! You’ve killed guards doing the same thing!”

“That’s different!”

“Says who?”

The dainty Falmun looks around the room. Everyone stares at her quite expectantly.

“... Really?! You’re really asking me to do this all alone?!” She whimpers.

“You can do it, Mair. Do the ‘lost girl’ routine. Find a way to signal for us, and I can come out and get you. I’ll play the role of your scared mother.” Kirsta replies.

“Ugh... Fine!” She snarls, crossing her arms before her chest.

“Excellent! That just leaves phase two.” Steingar turns to Salman.

“As soon as Mairlynn and Kirsta return, we can head out.”

“That’s a long trip. Are you sure we can’t sail closer?” Irzain asks.

“You, of all people, know that we can’t risk that.” Steingar quickly answers. “Once you’re on a carriage heading out of this town, we’ll raise anchor and wait for you at the rendezvous.”

“Are you sure about this, Sal?” Valan turns toward his brother. “I mean, this is a risky operation, and you’ll be traveling inland for days... A lot can go wrong.”

“I know, Val, but this is our best hope. Don’t worry!”

“That’s like asking water not to be wet...” Valan murmurs, shifting his gaze toward Jarae.

She bows her head, but her eyes turn up and stare into his. After a moment of silence, Steingar adjourns the meeting and the crew disperse. Gathering their weapons and gear, the team prepares for the road ahead. Kirsta dons a hooded cloak and Mairlynn prepares herself for her mission, simplifying her clothes and hiding her very petite but adult body beneath her own, tailored cloak. She soon leaves with Kirsta. The sun inches toward the horizon and dusk will quickly be upon them. Walking the streets of the port town, about one hundred miles south of the capital city, the duo search for the guild hall.

Finding the structure, they watch it from a distance. It’s smaller than they were expecting, especially for a town of such considerable size. Only a single man guards the front door. With her hood pulled up, Kirsta peeks around a corner. She points a finger.

“See that window? Get inside and I’ll watch for you there. It’s close to the front door, so just stand and look through it when you’re ready. That’s when I’ll come calling for you.”

“Wait!”

“What?”

“What’s my name going to be?”

“...”

“I’m not using my real name in there!”

“I don’t care! You pick!” Kirsta growls.

“Hm... How about... Sa-, no, that won’ do... Jes-, no, no. That’s not good either! ... Al, ali-? Oh, I know! Alice! How’s that sound?”

“That’s the most preposterous, made-up name I’ve ever heard.” Kirsta retorts.

“Well, yeah! I just strung some syllables together.”

“That awful. Can’t you do better?!”

“It’s my fake name!” Mairlynn barks back.

“Alright, fine! I’ll call for you... Alice. Ugh...”

Adjusting her cloak, Mairlynn steps out from the dark alley and walks past a series of storefronts, calling for her mother. As she nears the front door of the guild hall, Kirsta moves into position. She snickers as the guard speaks to Mairlynn, pausing and raising an eyebrow as the human hears her fictitious name.

“That’s an odd name. Are your parents from the mainland?” He finally asks.

“I think so. We’ve lived here since I can remember, but we just came to Vaspania, and this city is so big!” Mairlynn whimpers, doing her best to portray a frightened, pre-teen girl.

“With a name like that, it must be hard growing up.”

“You have no idea...” She speaks under her breath.

“Well, come on inside. We can send for the sheriff and maybe he can help.”

“Okay.”

Entering the guild hall, the doorman speaks to a clerk seated at a front desk. After a moment, the guard returns to his post, while Mairlynn waits near the window pointed out by Kirsta, staying out of view.

“Don’t worry. We’ll take care of you, child.” The human at the desk remarks.

“Alright... Excuse me, mister, but may I use your privy?”

“Sure. Down that hall, at the opposite end of the building.”

“Thank you!”

Darting off, Mairlynn looks around, scanning for other bounty hunters. Reading the signs, many of which are pictographic, for the illiterate among the bounty hunters, she swiftly finds the poster room. However, several hunters are inside. She ducks into the next room, only to find the privy. She sits and waits, listening to the hunters as they examine some of the posters.

“Man, I’d love to catch this one.” A hunter remarks.

“Hah! You’d have a better chance trying to marry an attractive woman!” A second exclaims.

“Hey, all of the women I’m with are attractive!” The first retorts.

“Whores don’t count.”

“Oh... Well, I guess you’re right then! Hahaha!”

“That would be quite the haul, though. Did you hear about Armis and Ariska? They actually caught Steingar.”

“Yeah, but he escaped.”

“Doesn’t matter! They were still paid! I heard they retired, sold their little house in the capital city, and left for the mainland the next day.”

“Can’t say I blame them. This is a hard life. Those two had the right idea... Come on. We’d better go. I want to get to the tavern before nightfall. All the pretty girls seem to like going to bed early. Can’t have them tucked in bed without me! Haha!”

The hunters leave the poster room, their footfalls growing faint. Mairlynn peeks out of the privy and looks down the hall.

“Finally.”

Slipping into the poster room, her ruby eyes scan the walls. Steingar’s poster remains and his value has been doubled, with many of the deaths of the soldiers in Hirus’ dungeon attributed to him. Beside it is the same, unaltered poster of Irzain. They still don’t know that his true name is Hebron. Two new posters are hung nearby, depicting Roak and Valan both. Valan is named, as is Roak. Mairlynn’s heart sinks. Salman looks so much like his twin that it’d be easy to mistake him for Valan. She begins to worry about the potential of the mission. What if he’s mistaken for Valan and captured before they can reach the palace?! As she stands and stares at the posters, she furls her brow and cocks her head. Reading Roak’s poster, she’s left perplexed.

“Wanted for technologies deemed valuable to the Crown. MUST BE CAPTURED ALIVE!” The poster reads.

“What could that simpleton have that the Crown wants so badly?” She thinks aloud.

“Alice? Are you alright?”

Hearing the voice in the hallway, she moves fast, gathering a copy of each poster from the barrel beneath the display and tucking them beneath her cloak. She races out of the room and ducks into the privy before the desk clerk turns the corner and sees her. Walking through the hallway, he checks the rooms.

“Alice? Are you here? Ugh, that name...” The clerk murmurs.

He knocks on the closed door to the indoor privy.

“Alice?”

“I’ll be right out!”

“I sent someone to fetch the sheriff. You should wait for him up front.”

“Okay!”

Inside, Mairlynn conceals the posters by wrapping them around her body, just beneath her clothes. She uses her belt to hold them in place. With all four concealed, she returns to the main room. Standing before the window, she looks outside. After a moment, Kirsta emerges from an alley and begins to call out to her.

“Hey, I think I found your mother.” The doorman says as he pokes his head inside the guild hall.

Dashing outside, Kirsta and Mairlynn spot each other.

“Alice!”

“Mother!”

They race toward each other, meeting in the middle of the street.

“I’ve been looking all over for you!” Kirsta exclaims, wrapping her arms around Mairlynn. “What the hell took you so damn long?” She quietly asks.

“I’d like to see you do better.” Mairlynn whispers back. “I’ve missed you mother! Can we go home now?!” She asks quite loudly.

“Yes! Let’s get back home to your father!” Kirsta says, leading Mairlynn away by the hand.

“I love happy endings.” The doorman remarks.

Back at the ship, the crew examine the posters.

“Well... Forgive me for asking a stupid question, but does this change things?” Irzain asks.

“No. There’s no other choice.” Salman lets out a frustrated sigh.

“But what if they arrest you, mistaking you for me?!” Valan asks.

“It’s a risk we’ll have to take. Besides, I have this. It’s my best defense, to prove who I truly am.”

Slipping his fingers into a pouch hanging from his simple, cordage belt, the robed Salman retrieves a golden amulet. Ornately decorated, it features a shield, enveloped by a wingless dragon with a snakelike body. In its gaping maw is a crown, with a ruby inset into the crown. It’s a rare and expensive symbol of the nobility, a treasured piece of jewelry. It’s a crime punishable by a death sentence to fabricate it without permission of the King himself. With wide eyes, Jarae reaches out for the artifact. Salman hands her the amulet. She flips it over, noting the official proof markings on the back.

“It’s real!” She gasps.

“Yes, it is.” Salman says, taking back the amulet and draping it around his neck.

“I didn’t think a Lord from an island like Mishgan would have one of those!” Naemen exclaims.

“Isn’t that reserved for a more powerful Lord? I mean, Mishgan isn’t the smallest island I’ve ever seen but... To merit that?!” Steingar asks.

“It was a gift to our father, after King Euralian granted him lands and title. It was a symbol of his new status, as Mishgan is a minor island, but it was also a sign of their growing friendship. Our father and King Euralian were quite close.” Salman answers.

“Still, that might not be enough.” Kirsta retorts.

“There’s no turning back now. Hopefully it is, and we’ll be alright.” Salman insists.

“Is no one else going to question why they want Roak back?” Mairlynn asks.

“Alright, so are we all ready to go?” Naemen turns to the rest of his team, ignoring the little Falmun.

“Yeah.” They all nod.

“I guess so...” Mairlynn murmurs.

“Let’s go then. We need to find ourselves a carriage with a hardy driver. This’ll be a few day’s journey.”

Stepping out of the lounge, Jarae pauses. Glancing back at the others, Salman, Naemen and Lutala turn to her.

“I’ll just be a moment...”

“Hurry up. We don’t have much time.” Naemen replies.

Dashing past the others and down the stairs, they all raise a brow. Where is she going? Rushing into the boiler room, Jarae reaches into her pouch and retrieves the coal figurine. She looks at it for a final time, admiring her craftsmanship. Her heart sinks as she shifts her gaze toward the hopper. Reaching out her hand, it shakes as she ponders her decision. Is this really for the best? Will she be able to follow through? She closes her eyes tightly and takes a deep breath. Uncoiling her fingers, she drops the lump of coal into the hopper, where it bounces along the wrought iron walls before landing atop the pile below.

Soon, it’ll be pulled between the jagged rollers, which automatically scoops the Pitania infused coal into the furnace. After a moment, she opens her eyes. They well with tears and her entire body trembles. Collecting herself enough, she sniffles and leaves the room, only to stop when Valan emerges from the stairwell. He sees her and freezes, but doesn’t speak. He stares at her, and she stares right back, their eyes locked. She takes a step closer, and then another. Without saying a word, she turns and walks past Valan, heading for the steps that lead up and out of the bowels of the ship.

“Jarae?” He turns to her.

“Goodbye, Valan.” She speaks softly, glancing over her shoulder at him as she climbs the stairs.

With that, she dashes up the stairs and finds the others waiting for her on the main deck. No sooner then they cross the gangplank, Steingar pulls the lever and draws it in, closing the gate that forms a small section of the railing. Trellan’s spirit, fully aware of their plan, unfurls the sails and raises the anchor. As the ship lumbers out of the harbor, the rest of the crew gather on the main deck, watching as they leave Salman, Naemen, Lutala and Jarae behind. Naemen waves to his sister, who looks exceptionally worried. Valan and Jarae stare at one another, never speaking or even moving.

After a moment, the team begins their journey, walking away from the harbor. Valan watches, clutching tightly to the railing as Salman and Jarae disappear into the vastness of the city. His arms begin to tremor. The Arona-Dahl leaves the four on the island of Vaspania to carry out their mission, while they begin their own, the sails carrying them slowly around the largest of the Empire’s islands...