Foolishly, Ash hadn't expected the obvious side effect of her spying. The sight of Roan, blurred or not, had picked at her scabbed over pain, and that dark version of his voice, so different from what she'd once heard, ripped the wound completely open.

Her frustrations kept the pain at bay during the morning, but it was powerless to defend her in sleep.

The conflicting versions of Roan took their turns tormenting her. She'd traverse the forest of Caeleria, and his steady presence built her up, and though dream her never acted as if she knew the truth, she still did, and every one of his kind words embedded into her skin like a thousand needles. Then they were on the beach below a darkening sky, and Roan's Scion markings spread across his face.

"You're just like me," Roan whispered as he stalked around her. Finally, he stopped behind her, and his hands gripped her shoulders as he leaned forward to put his lips near her ear. "If we look at your heart, I'm sure we'll see a missing piece."

"Odella? Odella, where are you?" The panicked voices of her parents rose over the crashing waves. She spotted them running through the sand across the beach from her.

She reached a hand out to them. "Mother! Father!"

They didn't even spare her a glance as they sprinted toward Volant, their cries for her sister caught on the wind and carried straight toward her.

"Just like me," Roan repeated.

Something within her splintered, but she had the odd impression it had already been cracked before that.

Ash didn't remember waking up, but one moment she was sobbing on the false beach, and the next she stared at the planks forming the ceiling. Nobody stirred around her, so it couldn't be dawn yet.

Another nightmare. She'd had one the last two nights as well. Three total, and three nights since she'd glimpsed Roan. How long would she have to endure the terrible dreams before peace returned? She just wanted rest.

The closer they drew to Astamare, the less likely she thought she was to get any of that.

But slumber refused to take her into its embrace once more, leaving her laying there alone with her thoughts.

Lorica said they would arrive at Astamare tomorrow. Would everything happen in mere hours? They could have Callum back.

She could see Roan again, but this time, he wouldn't be a mere blur.

"If we look at your heart, I'm sure we'll see a missing piece."

Sleep wouldn't return any time soon, and for all she knew, dawn was nigh. She might as well check if she could start the day.

She slipped out of her hammock. A stuttering breath brought her up short. Willow slept peacefully in the hammock beneath Ash's own. Ash nibbled on her lip. Last time, Willow had been there to comfort Ash, and she'd surely want to be again. Wouldn't she want Ash to awaken her so they could talk?

Ash pressed her lips together and tip-toed away. Willow would want to provide comfort, but Ash was fine. Restless pixies danced their anxious jigs across her nerves, but that was to be expected with their goal so close.

"Just like me."

Shoving away the dark tendrils from her dream, she made it to the hatch and pulled it open.

Air heavy with humidity greeted her when she climbed out onto the main deck. They'd been watching roiling clouds grow closer as they traveled, and now, a day away from their destination, Lorica was sure they'd arrive to rain. As long as it wasn't another storm, Ash could accept it. The two-day-long storm she'd dealt with closer to her start with the Nightwraths had left her exhausted, sore, and sick.

"Taking a breather?"

Ash jolted, but it was only Pax, one of the men on the crew. He had found a compliant spot in the rigging to cradle his weight, almost like a vertical hammock. Nobody leaned out of the crow's nest, so he must have been the one on watch.

She wouldn't complain about escaping Caspian for the night.

"I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd wonder up here." She peered between the stars and the moon. "How much longer until dawn?"

"About another hour or so," Pax replied.

"Then I suppose I'll enjoy the view for a little while." With a smile, Ash crossed the ship to the railing. She trailed her fingers along the smooth wood as she followed the ship's edge to the bow. As she moved, she glanced over the rail.

Dark waters sloshed against the side of the ship and sprayed a mist onto her face. It and the breeze provided a comfortably chilly nip. She took in the darkness spreading in front of her. It seemed to never end as the sea reflected the stars and moon above. As a child, the infinite appearance would have terrified her.

Now it brought her a soothing peace, almost like the night blanketed her.

She could almost understand why Caspian enjoyed night watch so much.

A sudden grunt, followed by a scratching sound, nearly made her yelp. She'd been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed the faint glow emitting from behind the foredeck mast. Taking a couple of more steps forward, she found the source of the noise and light.

Caspian clenched a lightstone in his hand, limiting its shine, while his other hand steadily guided a pen across a notebook he balanced on his knees. He must not have heard her approach because he continued to mutter to himself as he gave his creation life.

Ash had seen finer artists, but he still far exceeded most who attempted to draw, herself included. A female took shape on the page, with long hair in two braided pigtails and features well done enough that she looked familiar, but Ash couldn't place why. Maybe if she looked closer...

A plank creaked. Caspian jumped, and his pen flew across the page, slicing the woman in half.

"Great gales, Cinders. Don't you know it's rude to look over someone's shoulder? Ugh, this was the first one I was happy with." He dropped his head back against the mast with a loud thunk.

Ash winced. "I'm sorry, truly. I hadn't been looking for you, but then I walked over this way, and I spotted your drawing, and, well..."

With a sigh, he lowered one of his legs and set the still-open notebook there. The dark ink slash stared accusingly up at Ash. "Whatever. It doesn't matter anyway. According to Wina, I'll keep getting better, and if so, I'll just redo it all again later."

His words came across as dismissive, but the more she looked at the young man, the more she thought he was tired. It wasn't the bags under his eyes, though they were there. Something had drained the spark from him, taking with it his usual fight.

She thought back to her meeting after the locator spell. Astamare. This island set him off so badly he broke Lorica's door. Was it the cause of his current despondent state?

Slowly, as if he'd be startled at any sudden movement, she lowered herself to the deck with him. She didn't know why she did. Most days, the scoundrel did whatever he could to get under her skin and be a complete nuisance.

They weren't friends, and she didn't even like him, but that didn't mean he deserved to suffer in silence.

"It looks really good," she said, nodding to the art. "Have you always liked drawing?"

His eyes fell on the picture and widened, almost like he'd forgotten it was ever there. He flicked through a couple of the pages, and although half appeared to be variations of the girl, there was also a boy. Like the girl, the boy looked oddly familiar, but his face was squarer, his nose and eyebrows more pronounced. Caspian paused on a page featuring both the girl and the boy, but it was only for a moment, and then he closed the journal.

"It's a newer hobby." He kept his eyes down as he spoke, watching his own fingers as they traced a star symbol on the journal cover. "There are excellent artists who create life-like renditions of people. Normally they do it by having their subjects stay still for way too long. Someone came through my town once who did that for a small price. By the time he left, almost every townsfolk had a portrait. At the time, I thought it was neat, but as time went on, I realized how amazing it would be to hold a piece of your life, frozen in time, to always treasure."

"You'd like to do that, then?" Ash asked quietly.

His fingers stilled their tracing, but they lingered there for a moment before he flattened his palm against the leather. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The tips of his fingers curled in, pressing against the journal, and when he let out his breath, his fingers splayed out loosely once more.

"No, that's not why," he said, and his eyes slid open. "I learned art because it's the closest I'll have to preserving time. I learned because I never want to forget."

Ash didn't dare to breathe. It felt like the smallest noise would spook away this strange version of Caspian. He acted as if lost in a trance, much like when in magic's hold, but instead, his own melancholy curled its fingers deep into his mind.

Maybe she was in the wrong for taking what information he gave while in such a fragile state, but she longed to understand. He read her constantly, picking away at the excuses she used to protect herself against an increasingly dangerous world. She wanted to read him back.

And, if she were honest with herself, she was jealous of the reckless abandon he faced the world with, and part of her wanted to know how he could do it.

Yet when she opened her mouth again, it wasn't to inquire about his interests. Instead, she asked, "Why did you thank me?"

He furrowed his brows, and she feared that she'd asked the wrong question. "When do you mean?"

She fiddled with a knot on one of the deck planks. Out of all the paths their conversation could take, she hadn't expected this one. She had wondered, though, during the quiet hours between tasks, or when she sometimes caught the young man strolling across the ship. Gratitude didn't fit him right, at least not when he directed at her. Still, he'd thanked her. He had seemed to find joy in throwing her off kilter, but she'd seen something genuine in his eyes.

That didn't mean she'd ever expected to ask him about it. Then again, she'd never expected to see him like this, on some strange bordering line between fragile and melancholic.

"During the sword fight," she explained. "You thanked me then. Why?"

Caspian frowned at her for only a moment before the realization dawned over his face. He didn't answer right away, though. Instead, he studied her, eyes darting around her face, but their force was the strongest when they met her own eyes. Something flickered in the amber depths. She couldn't tell what it was, but it warmed her with unexpected irritation.

Before she could tell him to forget it and storm off, he said, "You had no reason not to hand me over."

It was Ash's turn to be confused. "What?"

With his lip curling up in an imitation of his typical smirk, he rapped two knuckles against her forehead.

"Hey." She recoiled and reached to place a hand against the stinging spot. "What was that for?"

"I was told by somebody that a quick knock to the head is supposed to make it work better." He glanced down at the journal for a moment before looking back at her. "On the Cove, when those killers and thieves threatened you. If you'd let them at me, they'd have left you alone. And don't pretend you stayed because you had any fondness for me."

"Part of me wanted to, but I couldn't do that to you," Ash admitted. "Would you have? Left me, that is?"

She expected a swift yes. Instead, a divot appeared between his brows, and he craned his head back to frown at the stars. Her insides tightened. If she hoped for anything from Caspian, it was respect. It was for the one person besides herself who had seen her weakness to acknowledge her fighting to surpass it.

If he had to pause to consider, did that mean his assessment changed? He didn't need to like her to believe she'd shown her determination to stand with the crew. Maybe she didn't need his validation, but if she were honest with herself, she wanted it.

When he faced her again, her stomach fell, and cold irritability took its place. His accursed mocking smirk had found its way back to his face, and all signs of the Caspian from mere seconds ago vanished.

"Of course I wouldn't have left you. After all, Lorica would have killed me." He shot her a wink before rising to his feet. "I've indulged you enough, Cinders. Will you stop watching me as I pass by now that I've answered you? Or do you have other reasons you stare?" He waggled his brows, the taunt of his smirk daring her to retaliate.

Heated embarrassment flooded her face. "I don't—"

"If you'll excuse me, I should head to bed. Alone, if you don't mind. Meryl may think you interrupted us on purpose otherwise."

It wasn't until he'd walked around her that she remembered who Meryl was, and the fire in her cheeks became a blaze through her entire body. "You sodding rat! I hope you fall down the ladder."

He answered her in simple laughter, and she glowered after him. Once he vanished from view, though, the indignation faded away in her deep sigh. Caspian was a nuisance, but with the following day quickly approaching, holding on to the annoyance seemed pointless. She stole his spot against the mast, appreciative of the support it gave her back, and looked upward.

It took her a moment, but then she found it. The Guiding Star. The Dreamer's prison.

Prayer wasn't a strength of hers. It was left primarily to the priests as they requested blessings at each of the gods' festivals. Sometimes the villagers would chant their prayers as a group, but even that was guided by a priest or holy individual.

She realized now that prayer had never mattered. The false gods didn't listen, but they encouraged gathered praise to increase their power. Did prayer truly mean to speak to a divine being and that they'd hear you? Or had the Scions created the concept to keep the peoples' eyes turned to them?

She didn't know, but she chose not to care. Be with us tomorrow, please. Help us rescue Callum, and let him truly be all we need to restore Odella. I want my sister back.

She curled in on herself, legs tucked to her chest and chin resting in the valley between her knees.

Her thoughts returned to that charged moment where she hoped Caspian would acknowledge her improvement. She'd longed for proof that she'd grown enough he could tell and would reevaluate his view. Not to feel good about herself, not for his personal approval, but because she desperately wished to believe she wouldn't be a hindrance tomorrow.

Something wet trickled down Ash's cheek as she squeezed her eyes shut, and she sent up one last prayer. Please, Dreamer, if you have the power to help, then help me be enough.

*****

Hope you guys like angsty Caspian, because he's gonna be here with us for a bit xD Seems like angsty Caspian is actually easier to bond with.  Now if only he could give Ash that validation she so badly craves, maybe even needs v_v Because they're heading straight into the storm, and she's gonna need some stable ground to make it out.

Let me know your thoughts on the chapter down below, and if you enjoyed it, don't forget to vote and comment! I also have a discord open to anyone who wants to join, and we have a section there to discuss the book :D Let me know if you want to join!