Suddenly, the ship lurched, a violent crack cutting through the howling wind. Kree’s head snapped toward the small windows behind his head, just in time to see the mainmast split with a thunderous crack. The mast leaned dangerously to the side, the rigging snapping like whips as the wind roared through the sails. Shouts of alarm rang out across the deck as the crew scrambled into action.

"Damn it!" Kree cursed, running to the main deck leaving Ragan in his chains. "The mast! Get those sails down before we’re capsized!"

The first mate appeared at his side, panic etched on his weathered face. “The mainmast’s gone, Captain! We’ll lose control if we don’t act fast!”

Kree’s mind raced. Losing the mast could spell disaster, especially in these unpredictable waters. But he wasn’t about to let his ship, the greatest vessel ever built, go down without a fight.

“Get the men up there! We need to rig a temporary sail—use the foresail and the jib to keep us moving.” He barked out the orders, his voice cutting through the chaos. “And for gods’ sake, someone get below and make sure the prisoner is still secured!”

The crew leapt into action, clambering up the rigging to cut loose the remaining shreds of sail flapping in the wind. Kree’s hands were steady on the wheel, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon. The storm was growing, the clouds darkening like the hand of some forgotten god reaching out to drag them into the depths. But Kree wasn’t one to give in easily.

"Haul the portside sails!" Kree commanded. "We’ll lean into the wind and push her forward—keep her steady!"

The men strained against the ropes, the ship groaning under the pressure, but slowly, the sails caught the wind. The ship’s momentum shifted, gliding forward once more, though not at full speed.

Kree gritted his teeth. The broken mast would slow them down, but his quick thinking had kept them from drifting helplessly. Time was still ticking, and he couldn’t afford to lose any more of it.

As the crew worked furiously to rig a temporary solution, Kree turned his gaze toward his gabin. His gut twisted. He knew there was more to the prisoner than met the eye. Ragan had arrived, and everything had gone to hell. First, the strange tale, and now the ship itself seemed to be turning against them.

----------------------------------------

Below deck, Ragan sat in his chains, feeling the rhythm of the ship shift. His eyes opened slowly as he sensed the commotion above, the unnatural sway of the vessel telling him more than the creaks of the timber could. He had been on ships long enough to know when things were going wrong.

The door to the cabin creaked open, and one of the crewmen stumbled in, water dripping from his soaked clothes. His face was partially hidden beneath the shadow of his hood, but Ragan could see his eyes glint with something darker than mere suspicion. The man wasn’t just wary—there was something else in his gaze. Malice.

The crewman’s fingers fidgeted nervously at his belt, brushing against the hilt of a dagger. Ragan’s instincts flared, but bound as he was, there was little he could do. He straightened, watching the man carefully, his muscles tensing against the chains.

“Captain Kree sent you?” Ragan asked, keeping his voice calm, though his mind raced.

The crewman didn’t respond. Instead, he took a step closer, his boots splashing softly in the thin layer of water that had gathered on the floor. The ship groaned as it lurched in the storm, but the tension in the brig was far heavier than the rocking of the vessel.

The man’s hand gripped the hilt of his dagger. “You don’t deserve to live after what you’ve done. The Lord Acanist doesn’t forget. He doesn’t forgive.”

Ragan’s heart quickened. Lord Acanist—he should have known he would have his men on the ship, waiting for their chance. This one must have been biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment. And now, with the storm raging above and the mast shattered, chaos provided the perfect cover for murder.

The crewman drew the dagger, its blade gleaming faintly in the dim light of the brig. “You thought you could hide, but justice always finds its way.”

Ragan tugged at his restraints, feeling the cold bite of metal against his wrists. The chains rattled, but they held firm. “Whatever you think you know, you’re wrong. Killing me won’t bring you or the Lord Arcanist anything but death.”

The crewman sneered, stepping closer, the tip of the dagger now inches from Ragan’s throat. “I don’t need to know anything except that the Lord Arcanist wants your blood spilled. And I’m happy to oblige.”

Just as the man raised his arm, ready to strike, the door to the brig slammed open with a force that echoed through the chamber.

The crewman startled, his footing slipping, but the dagger still hovered dangerously close to Ragan’s throat.

The sound of metal scraping across metal, pierced the air, the crewman trying to regain his balance, the blade of his knife a hair's breadth from Ragans throat. Blood splattered from the crewman’s chest as Kree rammed his sword through him. His arm dropped the blade now tinged with speck of blood from Ragon’s neck dropping to the floor.”

The captain growled as he plunged his sword deep into the crewman, twisting with a glee of satisfaction.

"Come in my cabin, on my ship, and execute a prisoner without my say-so?" Kree’s voice was deadly calm, but the fury simmering beneath was undeniable. This ship sails under my command, and no one dies here unless I say so.".

Ragan remained silent, though his heart was still pounding from the near brush with death. He watched as Kree approached him, his expression unreadable.

Pulling his sword from the now dead crewman, and letting the body fall to the side, Kree knelt, picking up the fallen dagger and inspecting it briefly before tossing it aside. "Seems like you’ve made quite the impression on Lord Arcanist," he remarked dryly.

"I’ve made a few enemies in my time," Ragan replied, his voice level despite the tension still coiling in his gut. "Seems your crew isn’t immune to bribes."

"Not my crew, this pathetic creature is one of Lord Arcanist’s adepts. Seems he thinks you are who you claim to be" Kree raised an eyebrow. "Don’t be fooled, if I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t need him to do it for me."

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Ragan chuckled softly, though there was little humor in it. "Fair enough."

There was a moment of silence between them, broken only by the steady creak of the ship as it continued to battle the storm outside. Kree's eyes flicked to the chains around Ragan's wrists.

"Your story," Kree said at last, his voice low. "It’s too wild to be true. But then, you’re still alive, which means there’s something to it."

Ragan met his gaze, the weight of the past heavy in his eyes. "I told you, Captain. There’s more going on than you realize. And if you’re smart, you’ll hear the rest."

Kree nodded slowly, stepping back toward the door. "Fix the damn mast," he called out to his crew outside the brig. "We’re losing time."

As the noise of the crew outside picked up, Ragan leaned back in his chair, the knife had only nicked him, the wound already closing up, He watched Kree with a thoughtful expression.

"You’re not the only one who’s curious about what’s coming, Captain," Ragan said quietly. "And you’re not the only one with decisions to make."

Kree glanced back at him, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes before he shook his head. Continue your tale, I have not made my mind up yet, for the moment I am curious.”

“There’s more than you realize, Captain,” Ragan said, “The gods, the wars, and what’s still out there in the shadows. Ragan continued his story. “I stayed with the Faye for some time training with Elbar, reading books upon books of ancient history. Trying to figure out my place in all of this.May be in the future I will tell more of these tales. But time waits for no man, and I missed the normality of life. I missed the sun so I set out to leave Aerindell.

I would like to say my leaving Aerindell was a joyous affair, filled with well-wishes and festive laughter, but it was far more somber. There was a lingering fear that my departure would spell trouble for the Faye.

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“Remember what I told you about light weaving in the world of men,” Elbar said, for what felt like the thousandth time. “The Elaris is lost there. It infuses with the light, becomes one with it. You must be careful. Although, in your case, I’m not sure... but if a Faye’s Elaris is extinguished, well, it’s not good.”

“Don’t worry about me, Elbar,” I said, trying to reassure him. “I’ll be careful.”

I gathered my belongings, much more than I had when I first came to this world. Everything was made from light weaving. The sword, the very first thing I created, hung comfortably from my waist like an old friend. My backpack was filled with clothing, a blanket, and enough food and water for a week.

Anna and Maire flew over, wrapping their arms around mine. “Promise you’ll come back,” Anna pleaded.

“Yeah, promise!” Maire echoed. “You have to promise.”

I chuckled. “I will, I will. But before I go, I have something for you.”

I took the Whisperwind Cradle from the side of my pack and handed it to Maire. “Keep this safe. Open it once a day to let the music out. It likes to float in the air from time to time—it makes it happy.”

“We will! We will!” the two Faye said in unison, each grabbing a corner of the box and flying off. Moments later, soft music filled the air, mingling with their laughter and giggles.

“Elbis?” I asked, looking back to Elbar.

“He’s busy with something else,” Elbar replied. “But he said to say goodbye, and don’t be a stranger.”

“I won’t,” I promised. “Thanks for all your help. If I find what I’m looking for—or even figure out what I should be looking for—I’ll come tell you right away.”

Elbar nodded, and we both smiled. I was going to miss that funny little guy.

I turned and stepped into the void between realms. The dark gray swallowed everything. The grayed-out void was as disorienting as it had been the first time—a swirl of mist and shadow that left me feeling momentarily lost. But as I moved forward, the gray melted away, and I found myself standing in a forest bathed in golden sunlight.

The warmth hit me like a lover’s embrace, chasing away the lingering chill of Aerindell’s moonlit world. The air was thick with the scent of pine and fresh earth, and the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees was a welcome contrast to the soft glow of starlight I had grown accustomed to. I stretched my arms toward the sky, feeling the heat soak into my skin, grounding me once more in the world of men.

I had learned many things while with the Faye—secrets I had sworn never to share. The only regret I carried was that I never did figure out how to navigate the Veilwood, much to the frustration of Elbar. Perhaps, one day, I’d return and continue my training. The thought was comforting, though distant.

East, I reminded myself. Elbar had said the nearest town, Moss Side, was only half a day’s walk. I set off at a steady pace, the sun warming my back as I left the forest behind. The light weaving training had given me a youthful energy I hadn’t felt in decades, and I ran at times, leaping over roots and weaving between trees. It wasn’t long before the town came into view.

Moss Side was modest—no towering stone walls, just a wooden palisade that encircled the town like a protective arm. The gates stood open, unmanned, and people bustled in and out. Carts, horses, and townsfolk moved with a sense of purpose, yet the air was thick with a familiar smell—the stench of rotting vegetables and decay.

The town was a stark contrast to the Faye realm, where every breath had been crisp and clean. Here, the mud-slicked streets clung to my boots as I walked. The small stone and thatch buildings lined the narrow streets, leaning against each other like weary travelers.

I wandered through the town, nodding politely at those who passed, though few seemed to notice me. A wave of nostalgia washed over me. I had missed the presence of people, the hum of conversation and life. Not that Elbar and Elbis weren’t great company, but there was something grounding about being among your own kind.

My thoughts were interrupted by a sudden sensation—a prickle at the edge of my awareness. Something was wrong. I stopped in my tracks, scanning the area, but the feeling was elusive, as though it was everywhere at once. The ground beneath my feet trembled, almost imperceptibly, but enough to make me take notice.

Then came the whispers, hushed murmurs spreading through the crowd as the ground shook more violently. The cobbled streets cracked beneath the strain, and the air seemed to hum with tension. Something was building just beyond the town's palisade, an unknown force that set my nerves alight.

I reached for the threads of light, instinctively beginning to weave an Aurora Bind as Elbar had taught me. But the sunlight here was different—heavy, sluggish. The tendrils of light came to me reluctantly, like a disobedient dog. They felt darker, tainted somehow. I struggled, pulling the threads into a protective lattice around myself. But it was weak, full of gaps where the light refused to obey.

I could feel the power growing beyond the walls, rising to a climax. The ground rumbled beneath me, and I gritted my teeth, forcing a small part of my life force into the lattice to hold it together. The resistance was like trying to push through a wall of iron. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I locked a fragment of myself into the binding, and the lattice flared brightly, shimmering in the air around me.

Then, silence. The ground stopped shaking, and for a heartbeat, everything was still. Had I misjudged? Was it over?

The explosion hit like a hammer.

A blast of raw force tore through the town, ripping the air apart. My lattice flared white-hot, shielding me from the worst of the impact, but the gaps in the weave widened, and the protective net shattered. I was thrown into the air, spinning helplessly as the force tore my clothes and pelted my skin with debris. The world became a blur of noise and dust as I hit the ground hard, rolling across the dirt.

Dazed, I tried to push myself up, but my body refused to cooperate. The taste of blood filled my mouth, the metallic tang mixing with the fine, gritty powder that clung to my face. My thoughts buzzed like a hive of angry bees, and for a moment, I could do nothing but lie there, disoriented and overwhelmed.

What the hell had just happened?

The power beyond the wall… whatever it had been, felt ancient, unnatural, and dark. It clung to my mind like a shadow, leaving behind a sense of dread that I couldn't shake. My chest ached, the remnants of the light weaving lattice still pulsing faintly where I had forced a sliver of my life force into it. Barely alive—that’s how close it had been