The upper deck was a bustle of activity with men and women of varying sizes carrying out the daily tasks that kept the ship afloat. They moved about with a practiced ease that made their jobs look effortless, but Claire could tell by the tiny beads of sweat forming on their foreheads or the strain of their muscles that the work was hard. No one seemed overtaxed, however, and there was laughter and jokes shared between them in much the same way a close knit family might poke fun at one another over a meal.

      "I see you finally made up your mind."

      Claire turned to see Xeiren strolling towards her, an easy smile resting on his. The comment prompted Claire to look down at the outfit she had picked from the many boxes he had given her. The plum colored outer robe was light and wispy, its simple construction adding to its appeal. Beneath it she wore a loose gown made of white lace so soft and finely woven she felt like she was wearing a cloud. Several ribbons and ties kept the garment securely in place despite the persistent breeze tugging at the thin layers of fabric.

      "Yeah," Claire replied with a smile.

     "It suits you," he said, reaching out to twirl a decorative ribbon around one of his fingers, "but yet you seem displeased. Do you not like the gifts? I felt obliged to repay you for the trouble I've caused, it would not do if you are unhappy."

      "Oh, it's not that at all, everything was lovely. It just... it feels impractical," Claire replied, offering him a sheepish smile.

      Xeiren laughed.

     "I certainly wouldn't recommend climbing up into the rigging, I don't think that dress will survive," he said, "but if it's our destination you are concerned with, please, don't worry yourself."

      "Walk with me?" He offered her his arm and she looped her through it. "We've got several days before we reach Ninguid, I hope that you will take that time to rest and gather your strength – the mountain is indeed a treacherous place. There is a town at its base that will have everything we need to face its perils."

      "What is so dangerous about it?"

      "Aside from the obvious unpredictable weather and hostile locals, Ninguid is a place of old magic," he explained as they strolled casually across the upper deck. "There are some that even believe it is the origin of all magic and home to the first people of Oria."

      "Who were they? What happened to them?"

      "To be honest, no one knows, there are no records, only evidence in the form of artifacts and the rubble of structures that they left behind, most of which is believed to be buried beneath the snow and glaciers. Then of course there is magic itself. There are scholars who believe that all of Ninguid was once a thriving metropolis and that those capable of using magic now, are the descendents of those who built it," he explained.

      "What do you believe?" Claire asked.

      "I believe that the mountain holds many secrets and it won't be easy to pry them from her icy grasp, certainly not without a fight," Xeiren said, patting her hand lightly with his own. "Whatever, or whoever, it is you're seeking, make sure you do it without losing too much of yourself in the process."

      She was reminded of what Luci had said in the cabin, regarding Xeiren and his past love. Unsure of when she would get another opportunity to ask, she decided to take the chance and do so now.

      "Can I ask you something?" she said, look at him.

      "Certainly," he replied.

      "Is that what happened to you?" she asked, wondering if doing so would bring up painful memories for him.

      "Pardon?"

      "When Luci brought me the clothes... she mentioned that you were in love once..." Claire said, choosing her words carefully. She wasn't quite sure how to approach such a delicate matter so she settled on the straight forward approach.

      "She did, did she?" Xeiren replied, sounding more amused by the revelation than bothered by it. He sighed and turned his gaze out towards the horizon. "It is true that I once loved another quite deeply, to the point that I sacrificed everything just to be with her, but no matter what lengths I went to, fate had other plans."

      "Did... did she die?"

      Xeiren smiled, but there was nothing about the expression that implied happiness. There was sadness in his eyes, some bitterness, even remorse, but no joy.

      "No, but it might have been better if she had, maybe then it would be easier to move on," Xeiren replied at last.

      Before Claire could pose her next question, the sound of footsteps drew their attention towards an approaching crewman. He whispered something to Xeiren who nodded.

      "Forgive me, Claire, there is something I must attend to," he released her arm and let out a soft sigh.

      "Is everything okay?"

      "Of course," he replied with a smile, "a shift in the weather, nothing to be concerned about. Enjoy the sunshine while it lasts. I fear tomorrow will bring stormy skies."

      Xeiren excused himself with a short bow and headed in the direction of the quarter deck, leaving Claire alone with only her thoughts to keep her company.

      Thinking back to what Xeiren had said about the mountain, the enormity of the task that lay before her suddenly seemed insurmountable. An invasive feeling of dread began to worm its way into the back of her mind. Just what had driven Alek to venture into the mountains in the first place and how would they even know where to look?

      What if this was all some wild goose chase?

      Deciding she was going to drive herself mad if she continued on like this, Claire went in search of her father in hopes he would be the distraction she needed. She was still curious about the cards and after what had happened the previous evening she was feeling anxious about trying again on her own.

      What if something went wrong – again?

      When she finally found him, she wasn't surprised to see him in the company of Rollan and Draz. She was, however, surprised to see Jonas in their midst. They were crouching around something she couldn't see though every now and then a cheer, or some friendly banter, would rise up from their bowed heads.

      As she drew closer she realized they were playing some sort of game involving cups and dice. She hovered nearby, watching as they took turns pouring the dice into a shallow wooden crate. While she didn't understand the mechanics of the game, she could tell by the reactions of the others whether or not the roll was in their favor.

      "Come on, Haval," Valerick called out. "Didn't you learn how to properly cheat in those gambling dens back in Drift?"

      "I don't need to cheat to beat you, old man," Draz replied to the sound of dice rattling as he shook the cup. After a few seconds, he tipped the cup and let the dice spill. They clattered musically across the wood and when they settled, both Jonas and Rollan groaned while Valerick cursed under his breath. Draz looked pleased as he scooped up a small pile of copper and silver coins and slipped them into his pocket.

      "Anyone for another round?" He raised the cup and shook it.

      "Tempting as it is to give you all my coin, I've got other duties to attend to, don't want the captain to come looking," Jonas said, breaking away from the group. She met his eyes as he passed and offered him a smile. He returned it, bowing his head slightly in greeting.

      "Good afternoon, Miss Belmont," he said before continuing on towards the aft of the ship.

      "Claire, when did you get here?" Draz called out, drawing her gaze back to the three men standing casually around their empty game board.

      "Oh, uh, just a few minutes ago," she said, moving closer to where they were standing. Valerick was watching her intently, an odd expression on his face.

      "Is something wrong?" she asked after a moment. Her question seemed to break whatever spell had overtaken him and he shook his head as though clearing it.

      "No, nothing," he replied. "Just for a moment there... well... you looked just like your mother. It caught me off guard, that's all."

      Claire absently smoothed her fingers over the delicate fabric of her dress, trying to think of something to say to break the awkward silence creeping over them. Reaching out, she picked up the cup and heard the dice rattle inside of it.

      "What were you all playing?"

      "Oh, it's just a game of chance called Rack and Ruin," Draz replied. "You take turns rolling and making bets and eventually someone wins."

      "Or someone cheats," Valerick muttered, clenching his fists.

      "I already told you, I don't need to cheat to beat you," Draz shot back, taking a step closer.

      Claire could feel heat begin to radiate from Draz in invisible waves and stepped between them.

      "Wow, it sure sounds like you are having a great time," she replied, looking from one to the other. Her gaze settled on Valerick, "which is why I hate to pull you away, but I was hoping you could show me more with the cards."

      Her father stared long and hard at Draz before finally meeting her gaze.

      He nodded. "Let's go somewhere quiet," he added before turning sharply on his heel and walking away. Claire hurried after him, offering Rollan and Draz a quick wave.

      The room was dark when Claire finally pushed the door open and stumbled inside. Her training session with her father had not gone as well as she had hoped. After several hours of trying to manifest a new card with little success, she began to wonder if perhaps her father had been mistaken about her potential.

      When she expressed her concerns, he told her that it was fear holding her back. As loathed as she was to admit it, perhaps he was right.

      After what had happened the night before, Claire was indeed very afraid of how the magic might misinterpret or twist her request. As straightforward as the entire process seemed, she was quickly discovering that there were far more underlying variables in mind then met the eye.

      "Just shake it off, Claire," she muttered as she made her way over to the bed and collapsed face first into the plush mattress. She lay there for some time, allowing the gentle sway of the ship to sooth her restless heart. With nothing to distract her, she found herself once again thinking about the journey ahead.

      Each time she began to drift off to sleep, she was confronted by visions of Alek frozen to death in some mountain pass or in an abandoned cabin. He was all alone, his eyes wide and lifeless. Sometimes he was curled up in a tight ball, other times he was reaching towards her, his mouth open wide, frozen in a silent scream.

     It was during one such nightmare that she woke with a start, grateful, but confused as to what had roused her. She lay there for several moments listening to the sound of her heart beating wildly in her chest. There had been a noise, a tapping sound of some sort.

      Just when she began to believe it had been a figment of her imagination, she heard it again. Sitting up, she reached for the oil lamp at her bedside. After struggling to get a match lit in the darkness, she successfully lit the wick and warm, yellow light illuminated the space around her.

      Angling the flickering light in the direction she had heard the noise, Claire could just make out the silhouette of a figure leaning against Xeiren's desk.

     Fear gripped her even as she leaned forward, willing the light to reach further and expose the shadowed visitor. Ever so slowly the stranger leaned forward, allowing the meager light to spill across all too familiar features.

      Claire felt her heart climb into her throat and nearly dropped the lamp in surprise and disbelief. Was this some sort of dream?

      "Alek?"