Nentonia’s body had never felt so light before.

It was like a weight she had been carrying her entire life had flown away to gods know where. It wasn't entirely gone. There was still doubt. But right now, she was enjoying herself. Her daily walks which had gotten boring as of late were now a tad bit more bearable.

Ignoring the warnings of the crewmen she passed by, Nentonia ascended to the upper deck. She couldn’t even feel the cold of the rain. She felt warm all over.

She stood by the stern, admiring the storm above her. It raged, and with each clap of thunder, the entire air shook in submission. She took a deep, relaxing breath. She opened her eyes, and through the storm she saw free skies.

Even amidst the chaos, she heard his footsteps.

“So, have you made your decision?” she asked.

There was no answer. She turned around to face Kalaman. He kept quiet, yet the determined expression on his face said everything that his words couldn’t.

Then, Nentonia saw Armei approach from behind Kalaman. Everything about her looked so tired and defeated, from her face to her stride.

“Remina died,” Armei said with a weak voice.

“...”

Nentonia looked towards Kalaman, and she understood everything. So he was willing to go this far. To sacrifice everything else, just so they could devour each other. Right now, they were mere steps away from completion. None of the other party members would ever agree to it. Kalaman was removing all obstacles.

She couldn’t help but feel so guilty. It wrung her heart in all the right places. This pain, this conflict, it was theirs alone.

“I see,” Nentonia broke the silence. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“...Is that all you have to say? Weren’t the two of you close?”

“We are. It’s a bit sad that we can’t see each other anymore, though, but I’m sure she’s happy, wherever she is now.”

Nentonia could feel Armei staring daggers at her. “She’s dead. She isn’t anywhere anymore.”

“Maybe, but I’d like to believe she is.”

Nentonia walked, splashing her steps in the small puddles she found.

Suddenly, one of the crewmates screamed. Everyone turned their heads to what he was looking at. Jarvarax had ascended the deck, his body covered in blood splatters, with some of it dripping down his spear.

“Jarvarax?” Armei said. “What did you...?”

“I killed the assassin,” he said, then turned to the crew. “Your captain is gone.”

Before long, chaos erupted. The crewmen spat their hateful words towards the dragonborn, who only returned an expression of relief.

Kalaman walked past Jarvarax and stood behind him. Nentonia could see his hand was already resting on his sword’s pommel.

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“Apologies that I took this long. We do not need to worry anymore, Kalaman. It’s over.”

Kalaman looked to the skies, and appeared to take a deep breath. Then, for just a brief moment, he turned to Nentonia. Even in the storm, everything was clear. The doubts disappeared. There was only one path forward for both of them, and that was towards the end.

For just a brief moment, she thought she saw Kalaman smile.

†

She witnessed it.

She saw how the hero fought.

It was her first time seeing him fight at all. He moved with such speed that it was hard to keep up with her eyes. Every move he made was beautiful., lacking in unnecessary movements. Each strike, powerful. His blade was a part of himself, and he was a part of the storm. He fought just like how the heroes in her stories were described.

But halfway through the fight, he got weaker. Slower. He was stabbed with a poison knife. Yet he kept fighting. It must’ve been painful to run your own body ragged like that as poison burned your nerves from the inside. And yet, he fought.

It must’ve been a potent poison, as even the ever-stoic Kalaman’s brows wrinkled as he tried to fight the pain.

That mere sight of him, wounded and poisoned, yet dancing with the storm all the same, roused joy and affection within Nentonia. This was what she wanted to see when she first dreamed about adventure.

The heroes in her stories overcame great peril, pushed through all obstacles, to achieve glory. It was never the glory that enthralled her, but the torment they had to go through to get it. No matter how bloodied they get, they fight.

Kalaman was on the ground. All his enemies were dead. He had no strength left in his body to even stand. He laid in a pool of his own blood, and his body crumbled from the inside.

To her, this was a hero.

She couldn’t help but giggle. “This was one hell of an answer, Kal. Was any of this necessary?”

He forced himself to speak, even as he coughed up blood. It splattered on her face, and all she could think about was how warm it felt.

“I’m already complete...” Kalaman said through his anguished voice. “...But you aren’t yet.”

“Mm.” She nodded. “I’m not.”

“You’re going to fulfil our promise ... right?”

She nodded again.

“Then, they wouldn’t have let you leave alive. That’s why...”

“That’s why you killed them?”

He slowly nodded.

She could feel her eyes getting warmer. She laughed as she wiped away her tears, mixed with the rain.

All her life, she’s been shunned. Rejected. Turned away. Exiled. There was no place for her.

No, there was. She already found it long ago. But, when she arrived at its doorstep, she ran away. And from then on, she thought she was just going to keep running until she died somewhere far away.

To think she’d get a second chance.

“...Strange, right? For me to be crying like this. Something must really be wrong with me.”

Kalaman coughed up a laugh. “Who gives a shit? What isn’t wrong, nowadays anyway?”

They laughed together, ignoring the storm’s screams.

Nentonia got on top of him, feeling his shape beneath her. She placed her hands on his chest. She caressed his firm body, feeling the heat of his wounds on her skin, moving it up towards his unguarded neck. She wrapped her hands around it, and held it tightly.

Kalaman Kampus. The hero. The Dragonslayer. The invincible. He was here, vulnerable and dying.

That same exhilaration from that beach all those years ago returned. She squeezed his neck. Even with her meager strength, it was enough.

His breathing strained. His expression twisted and contorted. Nentonia could see fear in his eyes, the same kind that haunts all living things as they approach their death. Her heart was beating. Her mind was racing. She could feel herself heating up. Excitement, fear, arousal, pain, joy. All the emotions in her life swirled inside her. Right now, everything existed. Everything mattered.

This is fucked up.

That was clear. The world around her had convinced her of that.

But she was born this way. It was a mistake, in all likelihood. The world could not have allowed someone like her to be born, after all.

Yet Jaysie was there. She showed her who she was.

And now, Kalaman was here. He embraced her for all that she is.

That was all she needed to believe that it was alright for her to be here too.

“Goodbye, Kalaman.”

†

The storm had ceased.

The sun had risen.

The seas became calm once again.

Perhaps the storm roared more violently that one night, but now that was over. The skies were clear.

A ship had set sail, but never docked.