Sweat beaded on Kalian's brow as he raised the ax once more. He cleaved a log in half with a single blow, then set the pieces up to be chopped again. Bellamy sat nearby, cleaning an assortment of pistols. Delilah was also with them this morning. She was busy mending several different clothing items.

    Kalian split the halved logs and dropped them onto his growing pile. He didn't grab another log right away. Instead, he took the water canteen he'd set aside and swallowed a few long draughts. "What I wouldn't give to be swimming right now," Bellamy sighed. He set a pistol down and grabbed another one. "I wish spring would last a little longer."

    "Do you not like summer?" Delilah asked, cocking her head. Her golden hair was pulled back in a tight braid. She draped it over one shoulder and toyed with the end of it, waiting for Bellamy to respond.

    "I don't mind summer. I just don't like heat," Bellamy replied.

    "Likewise," Kalian remarked. "I'd take spring over summer any day."

    It was warm enough today that his wings held a faint ache, in addition to the lingering soreness from his injury. Usually, he didn't have to worry about heat affecting his wings. They regulated their own temperatures, staying warm when it was cold, and cool when it was warm, but since he'd been injured, it was possible that ability had been temporarily disrupted. He'd have to wait until he was fully healed to find out if that really was the reason.

    Until then... Kalian allowed his magic to stir up a chilled breeze. The ice blue swirls in his wings flashed beneath his glamour. Kalian glanced at his palms. He smiled, but clenched them into fists to avoid Delilah and Bellamy from noticing the blue glow in his flesh.

    "We should go to the beach," Delilah suggested. "Malachi said there are a lot of secluded areas on the coast outside of Selcouth. Perfect places to go swimming."

    Kalian and Bellamy exchanged wary glances. Kalian had told his friend what Samson said about Malachi's relentless pursuit of Delilah. Bellamy said he was aware of Malachi's interest, but hadn't known how deep it ran.

    "Did he invite you to go down there with him?" Kalian asked, grabbing another log.

    Delilah returned her attention to her sewing. "He did. I didn't go."

    "Good," Bellamy said. "Malachi's an untrustworthy bastard. I'd sooner want you to swim with a Syreni than with him." Kalian shuddered at the thought of the creature Bellamy had mentioned.

    Syreni were a type of merfolk who dwelled in the frozen waters of the Caeles Sea. They had long eel-like tails instead of legs. Their faces were flat, as they had no noses. Instead, they had gills on the sides of their neck. Their eyes were abnormally large and completely black. They had long arms and spindly webbed hands, with sharp talons tipping their fingers instead of nails. Their entire bodies bore a grayish blue pallor and were covered in scales, and most had silky blue hair.

    Kalian had never seen a Syreni in person, only illustrations. They were creatures of morbid beauty. Terrifying and ethereal at the same time. They possessed the ability to breathe air into the lungs of drowning men, and they could steal air the same way they gave it. They fed on the flesh of their victims and claimed favors from those they saved. Kalian prayed he would never have to meet one of those creatures face to face.

    He pushed his thoughts aside, realizing that Delilah had begun to speak again. "...than you give him credit for. He's just doing what he has to in order to survive and make the world better, same as the rest of us."

    Bellamy watched Delilah, and Kalian chose to remain silent. It wasn't hard to piece together what they'd been discussing. At last, Bellamy shook his head and went back to cleaning pistols. "You're entitled to your opinion and I'm entitled to mine."

    Delilah opened her mouth, but Kalian spoke before she had the chance. "Are we going swimming later then or not?"

    "Sure. I'll go," Bellamy volunteered. "And I'm sure Samson will too."

    "You just want to go so you can see Samson with his shirt off," Kalian huffed, though his tone was light with amusement.

    "Jealous?" Bellamy shot back, even as his tan cheeks flushed crimson. "I'll admire you too if it makes you feel better."

    Kalian grimaced but laughed. "I'll see if any of the other girls want to come," Delilah offered. "I don't want to be the only one."

    "When should we go?" Bellamy asked. Delilah shrugged.

    "When we're done with our work," Kalian said. "Lir won't be happy if we leave right now."

    The two of them nodded and returned their attention to their tasks. Kalian raised his ax and split another log. When he next looked up, he spotted Moira drifting through the camp with Lir and Malachi on her heels. Judging by her sharp frown, narrowed eyes, and wrinkled nose, the Commander was unhappy about something.

    Kalian smoothed hair back from his forehead, watching the trio move on. I wonder if she would want to come with us? He thought.

☽◦༻◦☽◦༺◦☽

    Moira buried her face in her hands and ground her teeth before letting out a strangled scream. She'd been hounded by Malachi and Lir about the unit's next assignment for the past several days, and she was sick of it. She had been hoping they'd have at least a week to take care of their wounded and freshen up their supplies before worrying about another assignment. She had also been hoping there would be time for Kalian to relax and recover before she needed his help drafting another plan.

    Moira raked her fingers through her curls, attempting to draw deep breaths. It was no use. She was too angry to calm down. Moira hissed again, raising her fingers to the buckles on her leathers. She was sweltering in these things. She needed to get them off! She fumbled with the buckles, her fingers shaking with rage. Moira tugged on them again, clenching her jaw.

    She was growing hotter by the minute and her clothes were sticking to her damp skin. She needed to get them off. She had to get them off right now! Moira blinked rapidly. The buckles failed to unclasp once more. She dropped to her knees and screamed through gritted teeth. The tent flaps parted. She didn't straighten or look up.

    Boots scuffled on the dirt and there was a rustle of fabric as someone crouched before her. Moira finally lifted her head. Kalian watched her quietly, his blue eyes calculating. "Are you all right?" He asked.

    "I'm pissed off and too fucking hot." Almost instantly, the temperature in the tent seemed to lower. Moira didn't question it. She was feeling a little calmer now. That likely had something to do with it. She sat back on her heels and continued fidgeting with the buckles that secured her leathers. This time, she managed to unfasten them.

    "Some of us are going to go down to the coast and swim. I was going to ask if you'd like to join us."

    Moira shot him a disbelieving look. "Do you know what they would say if they saw me swimming?"

    "It's nice to see our Commander doing things with us other than killing?" Kalian arched an eyebrow, as if daring her to contradict him.

    "Commander Lev sure has a nice ass. She must not care if we look at her, if she's out here swimming in her undergarments," Moira snapped, tossing her leather shirt aside. She stiffened as Kalian's gaze swept over her. He'd seen her in her tank top plenty of times before, and yet... "Stop looking at me like that." Instantly, Kalian turned away.

    "The offer remains," he said. "And I don't think you have to worry about anyone staring at you. After all, surely they know you'll stab them, skin them alive, or worse." Kalian started towards the tent flaps, then paused and glanced over his shoulder. "And even if they stare...what does it matter? You are a beautiful woman, Moira, but you are more than that besides, and they know it. So do you."

    She said nothing and Kalian vanished from sight. Moira folded up her shirt and set it aside, then stepped out of her pants. Her thoughts spun with Kalian's words and the things Samson had said to her only a few days ago. Perhaps they were right. Moira bit her lip, looking down at herself.

    She never had been one to put herself on display. She knew she was curvier than many women, and that fact had always made her wary. She was careful not to draw attention to herself. She was careful not to do anything to catch anyone's eye. She'd grown up that way. It was what her mother did. It was what her mother taught her to do.

    Moira swallowed hard. "Maybe I'll try this once," she whispered to herself. "Kalian and Samson might be right. And it's like Kalian said. If they stare or do anything of the sort, I know how to handle them. I know how to take care of myself." She frowned the next instant. "But I'm not going out there in my undergarments."

    Moira grabbed a spare set of leggings and tore the fabric at the thighs. She took off her old leggings and stepped into the new ones. The material fell just below her upper thighs. She smiled and tossed her old leggings aside. Moira left her tank top as it was and tied her hair back in a ponytail as she left her tent.

    She ignored the curious gazes that followed her as she made her way to the horses on bare feet. Jasmine was in her private corral, contentedly grazing. Moira grabbed her bridle and reins off a post and joined the mare. In just a few minutes, she was leading Jasmine out of the corral. Moira swung onto her bare back and gave her sides an encouraging squeeze. Jasmine trotted out of the camp and Moira guided her towards the sea.