ADARA

Lamps hung off the mast to create a foggy, orange glow in the mire. Thick clouds bloomed off the surface of the still, black ocean. Rocks jutted out from the depths, littered with wooden carcasses of shipwrecks. Things moved in the deep, carving through and sending disturbing ripples through what little waves there were. "How far are we from getting out of this place?" Adara asked as she turned to Yuven, who drank at his medicinal phial. He licked at his lips, casting his glance at her from where he sat. "It feels like we've been here for days now."

"Because we have." Yuven slipped the phial into his leather straps. "And don't bother asking me when we'll be out. Considering we arrived way earlier than the usual trip." One leg over the other, he sat with his crescent blade against his foot, in grabbing range of the hilt. Each time a bubble popped on the still waters, Yuven straightened himself out when the golden chains thrown overboard trailed behind them. "We're in the heartlands though."

The salty spray had been replaced with decay, rot, and carrion. It stuck to her lungs, and she brought a hand up to her nose to try and quell the lethal scent. Yuven's feathers twitched, and he wrapped his fingers around his crescent blade before using it to heave himself up. "You might as well check on Fenrer. If something happens — well—" He bared his fangs at her. "You'll know real quick." He whistled at a loitering Warden, directing them to refresh the runes along the golden chains when they churned through a thick patch of tar. Teeth slid out from under the surface, though retreated from the light the boat shed.

The lamps swayed on the masts and the ship groaned with the effort it took for the dedicated wind magickae to push it forward with no tail or headwind for them. It weighed on her brow and heated up her blood, though when Yuven pushed her out of his way, she sighed and headed below deck again. Into the cabin, she frowned at the appearance of Fenrer, ragged with a bucket closeby. He curled on himself, pallor ashen, though his attention flicked to her when she tapped her fingers against the door. "Do you feel any better?"

"No." He rubbed his brow.

Adara approached his side and set her hand against his forehead. "How bad is it?"

"This is my first time crossing the Dark Sea," he told her while he clutched at his shirt. "I've read over reports written by Aurus to prepare myself — but nothing could've prepared me for this." He bounced his knee a little. "This stench, decay.... It's like the ocean itself is rotting here." He glanced over his shoulder at her. "Death permeates this place. Spirits of the desperate and the damned are consumed in the crimson bubbles." Eyes shut tight, he rubbed his temples. "In short, to answer your question... it's bad. Worse, even. Is Yuven okay?" He glanced at her again. "I'm surprised that this place isn't agitating his condition."

"He looked fine when I spoke to him." Adara paused when Fenrer curled closer to himself. "Are you still mad at him?"

"I think the only person I'm mad at at this point is myself," he said. "If I had thought clearly, listened even... Reyn wouldn't have gotten hurt, and wouldn't have almost lost his life saving mine again." He shook his head wildly. "This is why I don't trust myself with any sort of decision making."

Adara sat on the edge of the bed beside him while the water creaked against the hull of the boat. Waves lapped at the porthole, thickened by the Derelict algae. Adara tapped her fingers against her knee, and she mumbled, "Some people are better suited for that." Pain lodged into her throat, but she pulled the loose blanket over him. "Yuven isn't sure when we'll be out of this hellish place... but we haven't been attacked yet, so I suppose that counts for something."

"I don't think that's as good a thing as you think it is."

Adara frowned at his declaration. "What do you mean?"

"Because this place is full of Derelicts. By now, we should've been beset by at least one formation, but... none have come. Some may have swam closer to get a taste, but drew back the moment the boat's chains dragged through the water without a fight, or even an attempt. They're depraved, malignant beings, they know nothing but how to feast — so ask yourself why do they hold themselves back?" Fenrer pointed out with a shudder. "The Dark Sea is home to old Derelicts. Maybe even some which can trace themselves back to the Great Crimson Dusk." Above their heads, a ship bell sounded, dissonant against the pressurized air built in her ears. "I do not like this, Adara." He pulled the blanket the rest of the way over his shoulders. "I haven't liked this since the massacre at Azahama. What information we do have only leaves more questions than answers."

"Well... that's why we're going to Neven, right?"

Fenrer worked at his jaw. "Yeah, but even that has questions."

Words hung off the edge of her tongue, but she whipped her attention to the door when it creaked open to reveal Yuven Traye. "We've seen the edge," he reported, but she frowned at his pale pallor and heavy bags under his eyes, with Maria looming behind him with her brow scrunched, her hands clutching the back of his armor. Fenrer drew himself up as well with a frown at him. "The sooner we're out of this place, the happier I'll be."

"You look like shit," Adara said.

"Yuven, you should sit down," Maria pointed out.

"Did something happen?"

Yuven waved his hand, and Adara frowned at the dizzy confusion in the violets. "Nothing new," he replied with a shake of the knees. "Nothing that can be helped, at least."

"He had a flash," Maria grumbled. "Didn't even give it five minutes before he was running around. Or, attempting to." Her arm wound around his and pulled him out of the doorframe, though Fenrer threw his legs over the edge of the bed to stand. "I've got him, Fenrer. Just take care of yourself — and if you refuse, Adara, do please knock him out." Adara frowned when Fenrer sat down beside her with a quiet huff. "I'll be taking over the rest of the way to give Yuven a chance to collect himself," Maria explained as she held up Yuven. "I've also trained our cannons and harpoons at our backs since our front has clear water ahead... I'm expecting Derelicts to lunge the moment our guard is lowered—"

"They won't."

Maria paused at Fenrer's words with a tilt of her head. "What makes you say so?"

Fenrer gazed dimly at the porthole. "I just... do..."

"I'm... going to do it regardless," Maria said with a quizzical expression at Fenrer. "Just in case. Come on, Myl'lo, you've been non-stop and you need rest." She nudged Yuven out of sight with one last look in their direction before disappearing deeper into the ship.

Adara peeked around the corner, where Yuven stumbled with a hand on his brow, but she drew back, shut the door behind her, and sent her flames into the lock for good measure. A woven ward, her stomach sank when she turned to Fenrer. "Did you sense something?"

"No, I sense nothing." Fenrer clutched at his stomach, tilting closer to the bucket. "The venom in our blood provides us an alarm system and on top of my abilities, I should be sensing something. But I don't, and clearly, neither do they, but we all feel the dread of their presence." He lifted his gaze to the other side of the room, where brown strands stuck to his brow. "I think that's the worst part. We know without a doubt they're here, they're hungry... that we're being stalked like the prey we are... but they do not commit to the hunt, nor do we sense their depravity." He sucked in his lips and doubled over, using his foot to nudge the bucket in front of him. "It is simply nothing at all."

Adara held her own stomach at his words.

"Hah... I'm sorry," Fenrer replied through the tense silence with a weak smile at her. "It could also be my seasickness doing this to me."

...it isn't. Adara dug her fingers deeper into her abdomen to tear out the despair, the dread, the dissonant bell when a tendril uncurled from the roof to point at her, its mass of flesh pulling back to reveal rows of sharp teeth. You, it had spoken to her — or her magick. Bones crunched underneath her heel when she tried to find her friend, an innocent, turned to nothing but a pile of viscera and meat. Her arm burned at the memory, the venom coursing through her blood and weakening her until she too was almost prey. Adara reached forward to clutch Fenrer's hand, who looked over at her with a frown before squeezing back.

"It'll be okay," he finished.

Adara forced a chuckle through her lungs. "I should be the one telling you that," she said. "Or at the very least, distracting you from you know—" Her hand waved towards the bucket. "The whole seasickness bit."

Fenrer drew his tongue over his lips and gave a silent quake of laughter, though it died when he shook his head. "I once saw the sea as one of the more... safer places in comparison to the Derelict infested land. Sea to sea. Always home," he remarked, then sighed. "Once, we were desert born, and we became seafarer's when we migrated northwards to inhabit the many islands and archipelagos within the sea — and made Haneka our 'Home'."

"Why did your ancestors leave the desert?"

Fenrer drew his shoulders into a shrug. "I couldn't tell you. It was so long ago. Thousands upon thousands of turns."

Adara thought for a moment. "So much we don't know, it seems."

"Every time we learn something, we realise how little we understand about this world." Fenrer unfurled his fingers away from his palm. "This current situation is a clear example of that."

As the bells rang, Adara scooted to lean against him and take solace in his warm presence. "I've always dreamed about running away from Prunal, to see this mystical, magical world I've only heard in stories, but others decried as monstrous, and evil." Adara squeezed his hand, causing his fingers to lace with hers.

"They weren't too far off the mark, in a way — but wholly ignorant of the cause."

"How many people died from that ignorance?" Adara whispered.

"Better question is how many continue to." Fenrer sat up a little straighter. "You've seen how the Storm Wardens are sometimes treated — because people equate us to the inevitable. Derelicts. If we're around... so are Derelicts. People want nothing to do with it. They want to live their lives in peace, and so they shield themselves in a blissful lie... that as long as they don't acknowledge it, the Derelicts can't hurt them." He shivered. "Blissful lies... I would never be happier in ignorance. Never." Calm fury shook his voice, but Fenrer rubbed his back to assure him. "Because it's ignorance that forces me to wear a band around my forearm. It's ignorance that saw the Anima slaughtered. And it's ignorance that turned men and women into gods... undermining all that they achieved and the cost to it." Fenrer lowered his head with a sigh. "This world... can be very cruel, Yuven had the right of that much."

Adara rubbed her thumb over the black fabric around his forearm, tracing the Aurus sigil. "Maybe," she whispered, biting down tears. "It was the cruelty of people that took someone I loved away — and killed her." Adara rested her head against his shoulder, but took in a breath, and filled her memory with the smiles, joy, and laughter her, Tara, and Jisa shared while they invented their own tall tales. "But, I think it can be wonderful too," she pointed out, holding onto the memories of hope against the sea of despair which lapped at her shoes and threatened to drag her down into the depths. "I think it was worth it. The journey I had with you and Yuven, the people I've met along the way. I've learned so much. Things I wouldn't have ever known had you two not saved me that night." Her hand dug into his, to hold onto the hope. "It was... fun, almost — well, besides from the threat of death. I could've done without that."

Fenrer's chuckle came out far more genuine than the last. "I think all of us could've done without that."

Adara smiled, but her heart threatened to burst into flames. "I don't think the Derelicts will ever win... so let's just... keep sailing, right?"

"Kessuii Lattaa," Fenrer's Hanekan said with a soft rumble, and he smiled at her. "Keep sailing."

Memories of hope, she refused to let it turn to ash.