The sun was starting to set when Ambrose finally caught a fish. He had at first, tried to just use his hands to grab one from the shallows. But eventually a small extension of magic to hold one still for a second did just the trick.

  He made his way back to the small camp he had set up where the sand and grass met. It had taken him a lot of effort to get the Slovèi back to the shore. The tide had been luckily coming in and so was assisting as he carefully pushed the barrel back towards the shore. A task he felt had only been possible due to a rather well cast feather spell on his part.

  The fire he had made from dry grass and driftwood was starting to die down so he replenished it with a few pieces he had gathered. The Slovèi was still lying on the ground, their head slightly raised on Ambrose's pack. As he prepared the fish, Ambrose couldn’t help but stare at his unconscious guest. The Slovèi where a people he only ever been told about. Tyrus had met a few back when he was the royal cook, when they had come to beseech the royal house of Starus for aid in protecting their home land. How much good these pleas had done when the royal house fell Tyrus didn't know, but from what he and Ambrose had heard from visitors, no help had been given after the establishment of house Brampton and the Council of Guilds.

  His description of the Slovèi seemed to Ambrose to be quite accurate, especially about one of the strangest quirks of their race. The face of the one laying a few feet away from him, was so much of indeterminate gender the only conclusion he could draw was that what he had been told was true. The Slovèi where neither man or women, or maybe both?

  Ambrose was pondering this question when a small movement from the figure in front of him caught his eye. He stopped scraping the scales of his catch and looked closer.

  "Hello?" He asked, slowly.

  After a moment of silence the Slovèi suddenly jumped up, the shock of which caused Ambrose to yelp and fall nearly completely onto his back. Before he was able to right himself, the now animated figure turned and began to run down the beach. Ambrose was about the inform the that considering their injuries this was probably not the best idea, but before he could they slowed and dropped to their knees, clutching their side.

  He got up and started to make his way over to them. As he approached, they turned and raised their hand in what he thought was a gesture of defense.

  "Stay back!" The Slovèi yelled, through teeth gritted in pain.

  "It's ok, I'm not going to hurt you." He responded. "My name is Ambrose; I found you in the water. Please you need to rest or your injuries are just going to get worse."

  The Slovèi looked at him, seemingly trying to recollect something. "You, you weren’t on the ship?"

  Ambrose shook his head. "I was just walking along the beach and saw the wreckage."

  After a moment more of thinking the Slovèi tried to stand, but swayed once they had gotten one foot flat of the ground. Ambrose quickly ran over and supported them, placing their arm over his shoulder.

  Once he had helped them stagger back to the fire, he raised his hand to where they had been holding their side. A soft white light emanated from it as he tried to channel healing. The Slovèi flinch as the glow began but then seemed to relax as they realised what Ambrose was doing.

  "Well, aren’t I lucky to be found by a kind mage." They said, with a hint of sarcasm.

  Ambrose let a long breath as the throbbing in his head grew to bad and he dropped the casting. "Mage is a strong term, I am severely lacking in the talent department." He said with an apologetic smile. "But luckily for you I have had a lot of practice lately."

  The Slovèi twisted slightly, testing there somewhat healed side. "Well, it’s better than anything I could have done."

  "Not much of a mage yourself?" Ambrose asked.

  The Slovèi gave Ambrose a confused look. "Slovèis can't use magic?"

  "Oh." He responded. "Sorry, to be honest you’re the first one I have met."

  They sat up a bit straighter, which still seemingly took some effort. "I would like to say you are the first human I have met, but that would be a lie." They pointed to the fish that Ambrose had left half descaled on the sand. "So, are you going to cook that or what?"

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  After washing the fish clean in the ocean and finishing his preparations Ambrose got the fish cooking over the fire.

  "Can I ask your name?" Ambrose said as he turned the fish on the stick, he had stuck it on.

  His guest was so intently staring at the roasting animal that he had to repeat the question before they seemed to hear him enough to respond.

  "It's Trelen." They said, not breaking eye contact with the fish.

  Ambrose waited for a moment to see if they would ask him his, when this didn't come, he relented and just offered it. "I'm Ambrose. Do your people have second names?"

  Trelen seemed to freeze for a moment at his question, his eyes seeming like he was somewhere else. "Does yours?" He responded, his tone betraying his aggravation.

  "If you're lucky." Ambrose responded.

  They both remained silent as he finished cooking and server the fish, Trelen eating his portion so quick Ambrose didn't even see them finish.

  "How long were you in the water for?" Ambrose asked, in response to the Slovèi's rampant hunger

  "About a day I think?" Trelen replied.

  "You got that hungry from just a day without food?"

  Trelen again stared at the ground, there mind clearly contemplating something. "We didn't get a lot of food on the ship." They explained after a moment.

  "Oh, were supplies running low? Actually, thinking about it maybe we should go looking for other survivors-"

  "No!" Trelen said, firmly.

  Ambrose was a bit taken aback at their response, which his face clearly showed as Trelen sighed and explained.

  "The ship I was on… was a slave ship." They said quickly, looking at the floor.

  Ambrose was stunned silent; slavery had been outlawed in not only Medlund but the whole continent of Hallia for hundreds of years. "You're a slave?"

  Trelen looked up, his face twitching with rage. "I. Am not. A slave." They said, staring intently at Ambrose.

  The tension hung in the air for a few moments before Trelen let out a sigh. "I was taken from my town; it used to sit just off the coast on the Windy Green."

  "What do you mean, used to?" Ambrose asked, slowly.

  Trelen paused for a moment, his eyes pointed just off from where Ambrose was sitting, seeing something he could not. "The last I saw of it, they were burning down what was left."

  The pit in Ambrose's stomach had reach a point where he felt it couldn't get any deeper, but at Trelen's admission, the sorrow and rage he felt for the Slovèi managed to cause it to dig even deeper.

  "I'm, I'm so sorry Trelen." He said, his voice shaking slightly. "If there is anything I can do, I have some coin, we can try to get you passage home?"

  "There's no point." They replied, flatly. "There is nothing left for me there."

  "What are you going to do then?" Ambrose asked.

  Trelen didn't answer, only picking at the few bits of meat left of his fish bones.

  Trying to find some way to change the subject, Ambrose looked over at the debris that had been slowly floating to shore. Along with the barrel that Trelen had clung onto to a few others had wash up, as well as an ever increasing amount of driftwood.

  "I am not sure I want to know the answer, but do you know what's in the barrels?"

  Trelen looked up from the nearly bare skeleton he was holding. "Salt. Just salt."

  "Who has a ship full of salt and slaves?"

  "Astraqua apparently has need on both." Trelen said, with a scowl.

  Ambrose had heard that slavery was common of the other side of the arms, but it always felt so far away, actually meeting someone affected by it was a somewhat surreal experience.

  “Well, I am also in need of salt, and since I don’t think anyone else will be making use of it here, I think I will have one of the barrels.”

  He turned and look at Trelen, giving them a slight smile.

  "If you help me carry it back, you can stay for a while." He said.

  "Stay where?" They asked.

  Ambrose's smile widened. "Oh, I forgot to tell you, I'm a lord."