Baie de Douamenez wasn't visible in Google Maps.

But it existed, and Aloin's feet stepped on its very land.
Hidden. Unknown.
Perfect location for Ys.

The smell of salt brushed her nose, cool air against her skin, her hair blowing to her face. She pushed locks of hair behind her ears, and clicked her tongue.

Trimmed, short grasses tickled her bare toes, the pinky toe red and swollen, from the Cheval Mallet's chase a few weeks past. The sky had shades of purple, clouds with a pinkish hue. A bird glided past the horizon. The water was blue, and flowing clearly.
It would've make a very beautiful portrait.

"Pretty little place."

"Indeed it is," the woman beside her was tall, with wrinkled hands and a sunhat shielding her still-clear blue eyes, not looking around at the implied scenery. She swiped her fingers on the surface of her thin, golden phone. "They should be here by now."

Aloin winced. "Si tôt?"

"Oui. The sooner we find this city your crazy bracelet showed, the better, then the sooner we can go back home to get back to your training and pick up Bijou."

She was so distracted, so focused on the phone, that Aloin dared to reply.

"Training? Again?"

The blue eyes beneath the hat looked up, and went straight into hers.  

She regretted it instantly, cursing in her head. Baise, baise, baise.

The same shade of blue. Yet ever so different. The gaze over her was strong, clear, and full of threat, like a hawk eyeing its prey. Aloin was sure it could've sliced her to death, her tummy holow and cold. She dared to take in a shallow breath.

"I do not want that attitude, Aloin," she said sharply, coldly, then back to her phone. "Bijou never asks of such an absurd question. If you stub your toes for a simple Cheval Mallet, there's a hundred percent guarantee you will be shredded to pieces by a Gévaudan Beast."

But would you care if I did get shredded to pieces?

She didn't wish to find out.

The small island was a tourist attraction, but there weren't many humans around at that moment.

Two adults took selfies together by the scenery. Three old men strolled on the beach.

But what interested her most was the family.

The family-parents and two sons were dipping their legs on the shore of the ocean, laughing and splashing water at each other.

They were leaning against each other, tickling and tackling, having utmost comfort and enjoyment.

It took quite an ounce of Aloin's will to look away.

She could never have a family like that.

Not anymore, at least.

She remembered--could still grasp--when they were like that. When they spent weekends for each other. When training was fun and new.

She could feel how it was back then, sitting in her mother's lap back when she was small and innocent and clueless-the image, the warmth, the smile still fresh in her mind. Her mother would flip the pages of the old, yellow pages of a book full of French mythologies and fairy tales, and she would snoop her nose into it as well. They did it everyday, and everyday, her fingers became more and more wrinkled, pale as paper.

"Why are your fingers like this, Maman?"

She had smiled and ran those fingers in her hair. "A Voir never rests, chéri."

A clicking noise from her mother's phone sprung her back to the bitter, hard present. The fingers in motion were like crumpled paper, white and old, though no more than that. After Bijou and Aloin was old enough, she stopped creature-hunting and raised them to be one.

Her mother did not change.

It was them--no, her--who did. Back then, training with Bijou was the best experience she'd ever imagined. She would look in admiration as Bijou brandished her bow, and clung to her hand when she brought her little sister shopping with her boyfriend and group of equally beautiful friends.

Now, it was all a competition. Of apparance. Of wits. Of reputation. Of everything.

Training with Bijou was the worst thing ever, because a single mistake would mean a hurtful amount of stabbing to her heart as her mother talked on and on about how much better Bijou was. It happened often, too often, that it could be replayed over and over in her head like a video tape.

The look of dissappointment from mama. The way a simple glint of her eyes could make Aloin feel like a complete failure.

The smug face from Bijou, her lips turned up ad her eyebrows wiggled.

The constant careless expression of busy papa.

Her heart felt a jab, and her hands clutched into fists by her sides.

"If he didn't answer my call," the mother raised the phone to her ears. "I'm taking back my cheque."

Of course.

"You paid him?"

"How much more naive can you be? Bijou was much easier to train," she said with an unchanged cool expression, still walking ahead. "Everything needs money, Aloin. Now I'm calling Bijou. Hello, cherie!" 

The sudden change of tone in her mother's voice--sweet and patient, stung her ears. 

She doubted money is needed to strengthen their bonds again. All of sudden, the extinction of money sounded like a beautiful dream. Dad wouldn't be working all the time anymore. All mama had to do was take her eyes off Bijou and her phone--and look at Aloin.

"Walk faster," she ordered. "And hold your chin higher. Keep your posture as perfect as Bijou."

She did as told, throwing her shoulders back and puffing her chest out slightly. Her steps were in one straight line, steady and swift. A bitter bile clawed her throat.

Aloin looked at her.

She looked back.

There was no lace of anger or coldness in them her gaze.

Could it be-

She patted her tummy. "Tummy in, Aloin."

"Oui," she sighed.   

He turned out to be a brownie, as tall as her waist, with a pointy hat and curly long nose. His skin was spongy green-yellow, brown facial hair from his chin. He had that grinning face and glinting beady eyes-- the kind of face that made her hands fiddle themselves from taking her whips. Still, Aloin didn't understand why she had to show a perfect posture to a jumping, singing, smelly brownie.

Her mother told her to behave and be quick, then sent her off with the brownie on a wooden yacht.

While he whistled and sang, she eyed the water, her finger twirling in and out of her belt loops. By the corner of her eyes, she could see her mama, still so absorbed in her phone.

Must be about Bijou.

"Your mama pays me a lot of money, much more than required," the brownie grinned. "I have to entertain you. You look sad, leaving your mama."

Her shoulders stiffened, heat rising in her blood. Her lips were pressed tight, a low growl escaping from her lips. She did not need a reminder of what she felt.

She scowled and rolled her eyes. "I'm not entertained. That's not even an entertainment."

"I can sing another so-"

"No, stop," she held a hand up and level her gaze on him in the most disgusted way possible. "Your voice is annoying. Just shut up. That would entertain me."

"Rude."

She ignored it. The water was a high saturation of blue, almost clear, swaying in slow motion. She could spot a coral reef of pink and yellow here and there. She reached with a hand, a tiny dip in the water. The chill tickled her fingertips, but she did not lift it up.

The brownie made a grunting noise, and she could see him crossing his arms in sulking. She snorted, making circles on the surface of the sea.

She wouldn't waste time for a sulking brownie.

Then, it all happened too fast.

A sharp tug pulled on her hand, and she cursed, and not a second later, all she could see was darkness and bubbles. Her body felt wet, her hair soaked, everything was cold and still. Her heart thundered, her throat burning as something blocked her nose from breathing. She clawed and thrashed, prying her eyes open as she felt a grab on her arm.

"Shush, dear, do not fight me."

Her vision blurred, though she could make out a silhouette of a woman. Then a loud beep echoed in her ears, and she was out of breath.