Vel drank the entire flask of water Sigurd offered, letting out a sigh. Then without hardly waiting, she viciously bit into her portion of bread. It was meager━all they could manage to get, plus the single inn room, off Sigurd’s leftover coin and selling the boat.

  “I picked up some information while I was out,” he said, sitting on the second cot in the room, Vel and Amalia, across from him on the other one. “Ymril isn’t terribly far from here. About a two day journey with most ships. We just have to pick up one that only a crew of four can handle,” Sigurd said, “and sail northwest.”

  “Yeah, well, while you were picking up information, I got us a map,” Aden kicked off the wall he was leaning on, then slipped a folded parchment from his pocket. He handed it to Sigurd, who opened it and gave the map a questionable look.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

  “A map.”

  “Yeah, of Ymril, not of the ocean. How is this supposed to help us get there?”

  “I don’t know,” Aden shrugged, “but it’ll help us once we’re there.”

  “That is better than nothing, considering that we won’t exactly know where we might make land when we get there,” Amalia noted.

  “Yeah, assuming we can pinpoint ourselves once we’re there,” Sigurd said.

  “Do ships not usually carry maps?” Vel asked between chews. She swallowed, and shifted her achy legs over the side of the cot.

  “Good point,” Sigurd pointed. “Whatever ship we steal should have nautical maps.”

  “This sounds crazy,” Amalia sighed out, running a hand through her stressed locks. “How do we know what ship we should even steal?” she asked.

  “Well,” Sigurd started, standing up. He moved towards the far side of the room, pulling the curtain open slightly to peer out their meager window. “That’s why I picked this inn. We have a clear view of the docks. If we sleep now, we can be up this evening, steal a boat then.”

  “No good,” Aden said, sitting down where Sigurd had been before.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Y’all are so landlubber,” the healer rolled his eyes, then plopped back onto the bed. “Boat thievin’ ain’t all that uncommon, y’know, so they’ll have guards in the night, and the docks will be well lit. Probably even with light magic classes. It’ll be easier to steal a boat in the middle of the day when the pierfront marketplace is crowded.”

  “Have you stolen a ship before?” Amalia asked, narrowing her eyes.

  “Maybe I have, maybe I haven’t, but I’ve definitely been an urchin longer than you folks,” Aden said, propping his head up on a hand to look at them. “I know a thing about thievin’ and lyin’, and y’all suck at it. I can’t believe that high priest sucker fell for your silly lies.”

  “Can I strangle him yet?” Sigurd asked, his voice reflecting the unamused look beneath his brow.

  “You can if he’s lying to us,” Amalia said.

  “At least it’d give me bruises to heal,” Aden shrugged.

  “You concern me,” Vel said, shoving the rest of her bread in her mouth. She gnawed on it as she stared at the teenager. Sure, their difference in age couldn’t be that great, but their difference in maturity? This boy was just that━a boy.

  “Fine, then we leave in the middle of the day,” Sigurd said.

  “It is the middle of the day now,” Amalia noted.

  “Tomorrow, even if staying here that long makes me uncomfortable . . .”

  “Won’t those pirates come looking for us?” Aden asked.

  “Only if they make land,” Sigurd said. “But I doubt they’ll want to make a scene.”

  “So, lock the door and keep watch?” Amalia asked.

  “I’ll take first watch,” Aden volunteered.

  Sigurd sneered. “No, you keep watch once we can trust you. I’ll take first watch.”

  “Meanie.”

  “Arse.”

  “Arsehole,” Aden grinned.

  The hunter rolled his eyes. “Goodnight,” he said, more like a suggestion.

  Velmira sighed, and leaned back against the singular pillow on the cot. Amalia moved to lay down beside her, but Sigurd said, “Kid, sleep on the floor.”

  “What?” Aden popped up, “Why?”

  “Because you’re small and young. Give Amalia your cot.”

  Aden frowned, and looked towards Amalia, who opened her mouth, but Aden said, “Fine,” and got up. The singer sighed, then lethargically moved to the other cot, leaving Vel to melt into the stiff cloud she laid upon.

  It might not have been as good as her cot back in the temple, but it was so much better than sleeping on the hard, cold, dirty earth. Enough that she floated into her dreams, looking out over crystal blue water. She stood upon the docks, but not the ones she arrived on just that day. In fact, when she twisted to look behind her, all she saw were looming trees, their trunks shrouded in shadows cast by their dark canopies.

  Twisting back to the water, the faint taste of salt in her mouth, she gazed out over the horizon. Blue touched blue, nearly melding into one another. Then something else . . . Squinting, Vel leaned forward, trying to make out the familiar shadowy shape that pierced the horizon.

  “That’s my ship.”

  Gasping, Vel jumped from Erl. Her foot slipped from the edge, body tilting. Expecting the cold touch of the ocean to engulf her, she closed her eyes. It never came, not even a chill, yet when she opened her eyes, she found herself sinking to the ocean floor, the docks above her, mysteriously floating over the water, growing further and further away.

  Blurred beyond its surface was the unmistakable royal blue of Erl’s blazer, and with it, the rest of the man, plunging into the water. Vel jolted, her body hitting the ocean floor, pinned. Bubbles eroded away from Erl’s form, a dagger lodged into his left eye and the other wide. Blood spread in the water, floating up towards the surface the closer he got to her.

  Closer.

  Closer.

  Vel curled her hands into fists, grasping at the wet granules beneath them. “Leave me,” her voice shuddered, along with the rest of her form. “No!” she closed her eyes.

  I did what I had to, she thought. “There was no other choice, there wasn’t!” she cried out. “Leave. Me!”

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  She wrapped her arms around her body, waiting for Erl to take her, or however it was the dead haunted their murderers.

  “Velmira. Vel.”

  “Edard?” Vel asked, breath catching. Her heart stopped, and she felt arms wrap around her.

  “Vel!”

  Vel gasped awake, grabbing at Sigurd’s shirt. She pressed herself against him, if only to prevent her beating heart from leaping out of her chest. Then came the tears. Oh, how she hated the tears! It was like every new fear came with them, yet . . .

  I was hoping it was Edard . . .

  She sobbed. Rivers streamed from her eyes at the unrealized hope. Edard was still missing, and she yearned to be held by him.

  “It’s okay,” Sigurd said. “You’re okay.”

  Nodding, she opened her mouth, and all that escaped her was an embarrassing wail. She shifted, shoving her face into his shirt, if only to hide the agony she felt reflected on her face. Her chest tightened, and along with it came a new feeling━there wasn’t anything she could do to stop it. She couldn’t just run to Edard, nor even speak to him. He was lost, and so was she.

  “I-I . . .” she stuttered. “I thought I was stronger now,” she said, her voice cracking.

  “You are,” Sigurd affirmed, squeezing her tight. “But Vel . . .” he sighed. “How old are you?”

  “Eighteen,” she said.

  “Do you think most eighteen year olds would have been able to survive being hunted?” Sigurd asked.

  “Maybe?”

  “You haven’t met enough of them,” Sigurd sighed. “Vel, my point is that it’s okay to cry.”

  “It doesn’t make you weak,” Amalia added, and Vel turned her head, looking at the yellow haired woman sitting on the other cot. “For retribution’s sake, Vel, I’d have been crying this whole time if I were you!”

  A giggle escaped Vel, and she pulled a hand up, wiping her tears away. I suppose . . . she thought, taking a big breath. Crying, though painful to do in front of others, was somewhat cathartic. “I suppose I do feel a bit better,” she said. She pulled away from Sigurd, who was sitting on the edge of the bed. The way he looked at her made her think he was worried she was going to shatter into a million pieces. That didn’t make her feel better. “Mostly.”

  “Great, because we’ll want to leave soon,” Aden said, standing next to the window. He peeked out from behind the curtain, sunlight staining his face.

  “How long did you let me sleep for?” Vel asked, furrowing her brow.

  “Your timing is terrible, Aden,” Amalia huffed. “Let a girl settle down first.”

  “She looks plenty settled,” the boy said, not even glancing back at Vel.

  “I’m fine,” Velmira said, wiping her face more. While, in all honesty, she would have liked the time to talk out her dream and her feelings, she knew that moving was the better alternative━it meant getting closer to Edard.

  “Alright,” Sigurd said, Vel relieved to see his face harden to its usual self, mostly filled with glares and stiff unamused looks, she found. He stood, moving to look out the window. “Which ship?”

  “That one,” Aden pointed.

  “That one?”

  “That one.”

  Vel giggled. “You sound like me,” she said, pushing herself up to her feet.

  Sigurd gave her an exasperated sigh and the glare she deserved. “It’s a church ship.”

  “What?” Amalia asked. “No, we cannot steal a church ship.”

  “It’s a small vessel. A bigger one will require a bigger crew, and we’re only four,” Aden argued. “Or maybe a landlubber with a fish’s understandin’ of the sea should pick a ship?”

  “Assuming you’re not leading us into a trap,” Amalia said.

  “Oh, so you don’t like him either now, huh?” Sigurd asked, raising a brow.

  Amalia huffed. “My trust only goes so far,” she said.

  “It only has two guards,” Aden noted. “You guys can take ‘em out, can’t you? Ya messed up pirates just fine.”

  “Church guards are different,” Sigurd said. “They’ll have had formal training.”

  “Who said pirates didn’t?” Aden asked.

  “The avenging twit that keeps calling us ‘landlubber’,” Sigurd huffed. “We can take them if we’re either quick or quiet about it.”

  “I can unhook the ship. They won’t even notice if you’re already takin’ care of ‘em,” Aden said. “Don’t account for anyone below deck though. But it’s a small ship, and I’ve already seen ten people leave it. If there’s anyone left, you can take ‘em too.”

  “You got confidence, kid,” Sigurd said, sighing. “Fine, but if it’s a trap, I’m giving Vel permission to burn the whole ship.”

  Vel smiled. A part of her, a very small part, really wanted to burn a church’s ship. She stretched her arms, then her legs, and picked up the handkerchief to go over her face. “So . . . did I sleep all day yesterday?” she asked.

  “Pretty much,” Sigurd nodded, looking at her. “And the night, and most of the morning.”

  “And none of you gave me shift duty?”

  “He wouldn’t let us,” Sandy said.

  “You needed sleep.”

  “Yeah, only for her to wake up a crybaby.”

  “You keep speaking, boy, and I’ll give you something to heal.”

  “Really?” Aden’s eyes lit up.

  “Your face.”

  The boy blinked.

  Vel turned her head away from Sigurd as he moved towards the door, and looked at Amalia as she approached. She helped tuck bits of loose hair into Vel’s head wrap, then connected the second handkerchief over her nose.

  “I won’t lie, this stark white looks a little odd with this dark blue,” Amalia pinched Vel’s dress, then froze. “Are you eating enough?”

  Vel sighed, only now realizing how hungry she actually was. “Are any of us?”

  “No,” Sigurd said, opening the door. He peaked out into the hall, then said, “Let’s go.”

  Amalia turned, and Vel followed after as the four of them made their way through the hall and down an old rickety staircase. During her descent, she took a deep breath, smelling the warm scent of bread, mixed with other smells of food and . . . ale? It was something sharp, so Vel could only guess, but she knew the bottom floor of their inn was a tavern of sorts.

  As she stepped down to the tavern floor, she looked across half filled tables, then to the bar. Plates full of fish, bread, and tankards of drink filled the spaces sitting in front of most people. People . . .

  She’d been so tired the day before that she hadn’t really considered all the new sights. The people, she found, were perhaps the most diverse of them, at least here in the tavern. Some were dark skinned, light skinned, and everything in between, as well as hair colors. And . . . did the bartender have indigo hair?

  A smile came to Vel’s face as she followed Sigurd and Amalia towards the front of the bar. She got a closer look at that indigo hair, and if she could have, she would have brought up how similar her own hair was, if only tens of shades lighter. Still, it was warming to her to see someone else with such a bizarre hair color, despite the severe contrast in skin color.

  She must be Ymrillian, Vel thought. If this was just a glimpse of what the people in Ymril looked like, then she was thrilled to see the rest of them! Stepping just a bit closer, Vel placed a hand on the bar, the woman glancing at her with deep brown eyes before looking back to Sigurd and haggling over bread.

  It wasn’t long before Sigurd placed a small roll in Vel’s hand, everyone getting something small. “We’re out of money,” he noted, stepping away from the bar. “We better hope there are provisions on the ship.”

  “We aren’t just going to catch fish?” Vel asked.

  “We can try. It’s not quite the same as eating monsters in a dungeon.”

  “Ew,” Amalia said, wincing. “You did what now?”

  Sigurd didn’t respond, leading them out on the street, Vel cringing as the sun stung her eyes. She followed close behind Amalia and Sigurd, the two walking side by side as Amalia began an argument over food with the hunter. She was keen about making sure the rest of their journey didn’t include dire rats for food, apparently.

  Vel didn’t listen too closely, looking around at the vendors lining the crowded street, and trying her best to keep out of peoples’ ways.

  “Stop bein’ a pushover,” Sandy said from behind her. She looked back, raising an eyebrow. “Stop movin’ for people. You’re walkin’ here, mean it.”

  “Mean it how?”

  “Chin up and glare like you’ll take the innards out of the seaman who tries to stomp all over you!”

  That . . . was not a picture she needed.

  “Uh, thanks?” she said.

  “Yeah, no problem,” Aden nodded.

  Vel looked ahead of her, pausing when she’d realized Sigurd and Amalia had moved further than she had. She shifted, stepping to the side as she tried to close the distance, then stopped cold in her traps when a big sailor scowled at her and walked in front of her. Yet he didn’t do the same to Aden, who’d scowled back!

  What language was that?

  Vel blinked, then stepped forward again.

  “Hey, you there!” a voice called, sending a shiver up Vel’s spine. She shot her head towards the man calling to her, an older gentleman wearing a multicolored vest and no shirt━that seemed to be normal here. No one, apparently, had propriety in these parts.

  “Me?” Vel asked, pointing to herself.

  “Fancy some dyes?” he asked, grinning, then beckoned her over to his vendor with a hand.

  “I have somewhere to . . .” Vel pointed, then paused. Now she’d completely lost sight of Aden. She could barely see Sigurd’s head, the hunter turning. He was pushing through the crowd towards her, and as he did, the vendor man scuttled to her.

  She stepped away from him.

  “Here, let me dye your wrap?” he asked, grinning and stepping closer.

  Vel leaned away, narrowing her eyes.

  “It’d be pretty, all multicolored, y’know,” he said.

  “Um, yes, I’m sure it would be, but . . .”

  Dyes flew through the air from the man’s hand, blotches of red, blue, and yellow. Vel stepped away, the dye slapping onto the handkerchief over her face, sinking straight into it without even splashing. She blinked, lifting the end of it to inspect the colors that now stained the silk.

  [Skill gained: Dye Magic]

  [0.5 Magic added]

  Wait . . . Vel thought. Had she been slighted? Well, she was a bit surprised, but━

  “Sister, no!” Aden shouted, and Vel turned towards him.

  “Ah, very beautiful. Now gold coin for the dye,” She looked back at the salesman, blinking. He proffered a hand with an expectant smile.

  Have I been . . . scammed?