Seventeen.

That was how many people remained on the ship. It would have been sixteen, but they'd rescued the Blade and brought him along.

The Nightwrath crew sailed upon the sea, lacking fourteen of the people they'd had when arriving at Astamare. Fourteen families who they had to inform that their loved one had died.

Caspian felt sick as he gazed out at the crew members gathered on the deck from his spot on the quarterdeck. All were there except Granny Ladle, who hid away in the kitchen cooking as she continued to refuse to hear the truth about the Dreamer. In the day since they'd left behind Astamare, they'd repaired much of the damage from the battle. There would be no way to replace all the planks scarred with stab marks, but they'd crafted a makeshift ladder to get to the lower decks, switched out the cut rope with what extra they had, and mended the broken railings.

The Nightwraths were tense. A few glanced around, watching for an attacking enemy pirate crew from the sea or for vengeful Nimfeli swooping down from the sky. They likely wouldn't breathe easily for the next quarter-lune. Maybe not even until they arrived at the Haven.

His eyes caught on a group of people in the middle of the gathered crew. Haylan, Willow, Linden, and Cinders. The other three didn't notice his stare, but Cinders glanced his way. As if they had a mind of their own, his lips curled.

Before his mind could wander down an increasingly familiar path, Lorica's voice shifted. It had been neutral and matter of fact as she explained what happened on Maewyll and where things would go from there, but now hesitance crept in, and he knew it was time for the hard part.

"As for what many of you saw during the attack..." Lorica had taken the concoction that hid her Unwoven marks, but when she touched the center of her forehead, it left no doubt what she meant. A ripple of unease arose from the crew. It had been there, but her words summoned the currents to the surface.

Caspian shifted closer to her, and he noticed Garman do the same on the other side. The tension in her body eased.

"It is exactly how it appeared," Lorica went on. "I am not only a Scion, but I am an Unwoven. One that you have heard of, actually. When I have told each of you the tale of the false gods' rise and the escape of the Unwoven, I tell of a young girl who accidentally opened the Unwoven's prison. I was the Unwoven that stepped out, and I was the one that allowed all of my brethren to escape into the world. Some of you have been afflicted with your marks by Unwoven, and the Unwoven continue out there, wreaking havoc which extent we do not yet know. The fault for that traces back to me. I will never be able to make things up to you, but I have vowed to spend every one of my days attempting to.

"I was a spell crafter during my time with the Scions, and in my search for a craft, I came across forbidden documentation of the modification on the Dreamweave. From there, research revealed the full reality of the false gods' work, and for this knowledge, I was punished. I was not in the prison long, so I kept most of my mind stable, and I used little magic. Because of this, my emotions have been stunted, but I am not yet dangerous."

A few in the crew stirred uncomfortably. Someone repeated "yet" to themselves, loud enough that it carried up to the quarterdeck. Caspian didn't know who it had been, so he settled for glaring at everyone.

Lorica pressed her lips into a thin line but nodded. "Yes, yet. I limit my magic as much as I can, and Sebille helps me where she's able, but as long as I remained cut off from the magical well, I will continue to lose myself slowly. Should I begin to falter in my control, either mentally or magically, I have measures prepared. Garman has strict orders to ensure I never bring anyone to harm, and if we catch it early enough, I have my own dwellings on the Haven prepared by Sebille much like Garman's down below.

"This would have been shared with everyone from the beginning. Prior to this, only Garman, Caspian, Sebille, and Haylan knew. Very early on, we had a member threaten my life under the false belief that I could undo the curses placed upon you. Sebille faces similar threats at time, but she's able to keep herself safe with her magic. I lack that luxury, and I do not wish to physically harm any of my crew members in the name of protecting myself. Thus, after a discussion with my first mates and Sebille, I decided to keep the truth about myself hidden.

"If any of you wish to leave the crew now that you know this, I will understand. I lied to you, and I am the reason many have faced hardships, even if indirectly. You may disembark and remain on the Haven when we arrive, or if you insist, we can return you to a mainland."

She lowered her head and let it hang there. Silence descended, broken only by the slosh of water against the hull. Caspian clenched his fists even as he hid them with his crossed arms. They couldn't coerce anyone into accepting the truth about Lorica, even if nobody deserved their grace more than she did.

"Come treasures or storms, you are my captain!" Linden stood ramrod straight and held his hand in a salute as he spoke the words of a silly pirate fealty pledge.

At least, Caspian had once thought them silly. Watching the way Lorica's head snapped out and her eyes widened, though, he reassessed his opinion.

Willow saluted as well. "You are my captain!"

"You are my captain!" Cinders echoed, following along.

One by one, each pirate on the deck repeated the salute and phrase. Once the last one had, Caspian turned toward Lorica. He smiled as she looked at him. She spoke of her emotions as stunted, but that did nothing to stop the tears rimming her eyes.

"You are my captain," he said, and he saluted.

"You are my captain." This came from Garman. When Lorica looked at him, it took longer for her to turn away. Caspian had a feeling more was silently said between them than those words alone.

Lorica dropped her head back and took a deep breath. The tears had vanished by the time she looked at the crew again, but her heart showed in the gentle smile she gave everyone.

"Come treasures or storm, I am your captain. It is an honor to sail these waters with each and every one of you. Now, be at ease," she said. She waited until everyone had relaxed from their saluting position to continue. "We've done it, everyone. Not one, but two artefacts taken from those who mean to use them with ill intentions. And now we have the Blade, who has so graciously offered his abilities when the time should come for us to need them."

Many eyes swung to the priest lurking in the back of the gathering. A few people cheered, and one released an ear-splitting whistle. Red colored the man's cheeks as he nodded back at the crew.

"In celebration, Getha has worked very hard below deck while we've been up here. Everyone is dismissed to enjoy a fantastic early supper. That includes you two," Lorica added in a quieter voice to the two men beside her when they didn't move. "I'll be down to join everyone shortly. It seems I need to discuss something with young Callum first."

Caspian hadn't noticed the priest's approach. His movement had gotten lost in the others flowing to the hatch. If it could even be called a hatch, as it was an open hole now with their mishmash ladder leading to the lower deck.

"I'll go when you go," Garman said. He tended to drift toward Lorica, but he'd done so a lot more since they returned to the ship.

Caspian was half tempted to do the same, if only to hear what the Blade had to say, but he spotted his friends descending to the lower deck, and he remembered something he'd been meaning to do all day.

"Fill me in later, ay?" he asked.

Garman squinted at him but nodded.

Taking the staircase the Blade wasn't climbing, Caspian made his way to the hatch. Everyone had already made it to the lower deck, so he had no wait to ease his way down the ladder.

"Hey, Caspian," Linden said when he made it to the bottom. There was a weary note in Linden's words even as he smiled. "You plan to join us?"

Caspian resisted the urge to wince as he instantly understood Linden's hesitance. Cinders lingered with their group, and he had been vocal about his desire to avoid her before. How funny it was, then, what he planned to request.

"Shortly, yes, but before that, I was actually wondering if I could get a moment of privacy with you."

"Me?" Cinders pointed to herself, as if his eyes falling upon her hadn't been indication enough.

He quirked a brow. "While I understand that you have greatly improved your glamour, I don't believe you're hiding anyone in front of you."

She glared. What should have conveyed annoyance only exuded mild exasperation. "You're not doing a great job convincing me to give you that moment."

His lips left his control again. A sort of victorious smugness forced him to smirk. "What if I tell you Linden's giveaway in cards?"

"Hey!" Linden shouted, but the laughter from the others drowned out his indignation.

"Alright, then, though I'm not sure if we can find privacy with half the ship still trying to make their way to the dining area," Cinders said.

"Oh, I can fix that." He maneuvered around a couple of other Nightwraths to his door and pushed it open. "After you," he said, gesturing into it.

She eyed the entrance as if he'd suggested she step into the maw of a massive beast.

He rolled his eyes. "We are pirates, and you still worry about propriety. I'll leave the door cracked, Cinders. Nothing untoward will occur."

Her attention dipped toward his lips before rushing back to meet his eyes. Blood rushed to her cheeks, and he felt heat stir within his own body.

"Alright," she said, slightly choking on the word.

"Are you sure?" Willow asked.

Caspian almost felt wounded. Considering the thoughts flashing through his mind with that cursed heat, he couldn't blame his friend, though. Granted, she likely expected his imagined acts to be more antagonistic.

Cinders smiled at her and nodded. "Yes, I can handle the big bad pirate just fine."

By the time he finally accepted her into his room, most of the Nightwraths had found their way to the next deck. He left the door half-open behind him.

He realized quickly how horrid this idea had been. The last time Cinders had been anywhere near his quarters, she'd found him in a precarious situation. Between memories of what he'd been doing in his room then, the hot flames stirring his blood, and what he'd pulled her aside to talk about, he might as well have been torturing himself.

She glanced quickly around the room. Her eyes lingered on the bed, and he was certain that she recalled the same night he had. Although she tried to hide it, she blushed by the time she faced him.

He licked his suddenly dried lips and watched her eyes follow the motion. He had been honest about not planning anything untoward when recommending his room, but sensations flooded his mind. Her soft lips beneath his own, her soft curves under his hands, every trembling breath that spurred him deeper into the kiss.

It had been a flawed plan. If he'd put much more thought into things, he probably could have come up with anything besides kissing her. The magic had claimed his body, though, robbing him of logic and leaving him with sheer instinct.

And he'd be lying if he told himself he hadn't desired that kiss.

"He places his cards against the table when he's lying," Caspian said.

Cinders jolted. "What?"

"Linden. When he plays cards and tells a lie, he places the hand down on the table. I suspect it's because he cannot control his eyes from looking over what he has."

Her eyes narrowed, forming a thoughtful crease between her brows. "Wow, what do you know. He really does, doesn't he?"

"Did you think I'd draw you in here with a lie?"

"Do you want me to answer that honestly?"

He didn't say anything, only stared with the smallest of smirks. She shifted back and forth on her feet, stopping only short from squirming. Caspian didn't realize what he was waiting for until it happened. A thought dawned on her face.

"You're the one who asked me to come in here. Stop staring to see how uncomfortable you can make me," she said, her eyes sparking with annoyance.

There it was—the cinders that turned the sky in her eyes to blue flames.

"Cinders," he said. It had been a nickname he'd given her in spiteful protection. Too often, those who refused to dedicate themselves to the cause of the Nightwraths left. He didn't want to learn their names anymore, learn who they were, let their hearts reach out and touch a piece of his own. It made it hurt too much when they finally left, seeking peace over a solution.

He started his new life saying farewell to his family, then went on to say farewell to so many drifters on their boat for lunes. He promised himself he'd stop growing attached, if only because he had too little heart left to hurt. And what best way to maintain distance? Refusal to acknowledge their mere name.

And what better way to indirectly speak of someone named Ash than Cinders? Both were the remnants of a fire sputtering out.

He never could have predicted the way the nickname would take root. For a fire to spark in her and push her past the mere cinders she had within her when she arrived.

When had those sparks started drawing him in? And when had their burn spread to set him ablaze every time that he saw them?

He didn't have answers to those questions. But he knew that he wanted to be closer, to stoke that sparking cinder into an inferno, even if it burned him away in the process.

He stepped forward, and he nearly closed the entire space when her eyes fell to his lips again. But first, he had drawn her to a private moment for a true purpose. One that, unfortunately, required speaking.

"I want to apologize," he said. He was impressed with how controlled his voice was given what was occurring to his body.

"I'm sorry?" Cinders said, blinking rapidly as if freed from a daze.

He chuckled. "No, I'm sorry. That's what apologizing means."

She frowned, and he had to resist the urge to run his thumb across her mouth. "What are you sorry for, though?"

"The island," Caspian said. "While I was in the throes of magic, I wasn't thinking clearly. I went with the first plan I had, and it required me to kiss you without your permission. Circumstances may have been against us, but that doesn't make pushing myself upon you right." No matter how much he'd wanted to do it, or how much the kiss continued to linger with him.

He studied her as she processed his apology. He longed to continue with his planned speech. To ask if she would give him permission this time, because even if he didn't understand the tangle of emotions he was feeling toward her, he knew that kissing her had been more addictive than any of the physical acts he'd partaken in with other women.

Dreamer above, what was he? A boy who had only stepped into the beginnings of adulthood? He was being ridiculous.

Still, he continued to imagine spinning her around and pressing her up against the wall so he could repeat the very incident he apologized for.

This time, she was the one who licked her lips, and he could have sworn he swayed forward. "Caspian, I appreciate your apology, but—"

"Ash? Was that you?"

As if a bubble exploded, both of them stood up straighter and inched away from each other. Caspian closed his eyes and bit out a curse as his door creaked further open behind him. But. She'd left him on that. But what? He was half tempted to punch the man responsible for him not hearing what came next.

The Blade stood in the doorway as he took in the scene. "Am I interrupting?" he asked.

By the edge of the man's tone, he wasn't happy with what he found.

Cinders stepped around Caspian and smiled at him. "No, we were just talking about something that happened on the island. It was a lot, you know?" She glanced at Caspian but then quickly away. "Did you need something?"

The Blade's narrowed eyes remained on Caspian for a moment longer before he smiled at her. "I just finished speaking with Lorica. If all goes well, I should be able to return home for a short time. Are you sure you'll be alright with Odella while I'm away?"

Cinders nodded. "Hopefully she won't need much of my assistance once you help her."

Caspian cleared his throat before the Blade could respond. He stretched his lips into the imitation of a smile. It showed too many teeth, he thought, but he had the sudden urge to bare them like an animal.

"Have you found a new partner to make plans with now, Cinders? I'm hurt," he said.

"Oh." She winced, guilt seeping into her expression. "Not plans exactly, no. But I'll be remaining on the Haven for a half-lune or so. I..." She swallowed, and when she spoke again, her words were thick. "I need to see her for a little while, you know?"

It made sense. Cinders' primary motivator in finding the Blade had been to cure her twin sister. Now they had him, so he would work his magic negation to hopefully return the chosen one to her original state. Wouldn't he wish to do the same if he had the chance to see Adria or Saron again?

Yet his heart had become a drum, beating a savage rhythm in his chest that repeated the same two words over and over again.

She's leaving. She's leaving. She's leaving.

It was happening all over again. He'd been foolish to think that someone knowing the truth of the false gods and the Dreamer would make them safe. She said it would be for a half-lune, but once she was with her family again? Where the dangers of the world wouldn't reach her? Why would anyone give that up?

Only the people with something to fight for stayed on the ship, and she'd found what she needed.

Meanwhile, he could never stop fighting. Not while Wolfbane lived. Not while his mere presence on land risked the death of those he loved.

Someone said something else, but he couldn't hear it over the shattering of yet another foolish piece of his heart. He didn't remember any of the shards ever cutting quite like this.

Cinders' hand on his shoulder brought him back to his room. Both she and the Blade watched him with concern in their eyes.

"Caspian?" she said.

He took her wrist and moved her arm away. The feel of her skin against his own burned differently from before. "Go along now," he said, his cheery voice as false as his smile. "I said what I needed to say, so don't let me keep you from the celebration any further. Tell the others I'll be down soon. And don't worry your little head, Cinders." His insides turned brittle as he nudged her toward the doorway. "It won't ever happen again."

"Caspian—"

He didn't want to hear what she had to say. He couldn't risk her convincing him that he was wrong, not when he'd said too many goodbyes already.

Not when he realized this one might be the hardest.

He shut the door behind her, closing off his room and his heart in one single motion.

*****

So... If it hadn't already been obvious, yes, there is mutual feelings here xD But, well... Caspian really needs therapy and is in no place for a relationship, so how about angst instead? This boy does NOT know how to handle emotions, and now Ashpian suffers for it v_v Maybe it'll be for the best, though. Maybe they were never meant to be.

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!