As they reached the door Kola considered just kicking it in, but before she could decide whether or not that would be too much, Reginald gingerly edged around her and opened it normally. With his normal hand.

Being envious of such an odd person was not pleasant.

Nevertheless, the two moved out into an even more cramped hallway. What space wasn't taken up by casks, baskets, and cloth-covered piles was instead occupied by people. Humans.

Their colouration and general features were similar to the dead soldiers. Their temperament, however, was quite different. A mix of fear, demonstrated by them rapidly clearing the area around the two, and-

-His friends stared at her openly. Not making the slightest effort to hide their… appreciation.

Ko wanted to cover up, but showing they bothered her would ruin the mood. It was uncomfortable, that feeling of being exposed. As if they could see everything. And she wasn't even wearing anything revealing!

Zair's arm tightened around her, aggravating the bruises below her dress. Suppressing a wince, Ko leaned into him and looked up, giving the widest smile she could. She hoped he would forgive her. She wasn't trying to make him jealous.

It would be okay. He would calm down soon and they would enjoy the party.

Zair led her to a countertop of cheap plastic cups and handed her one. Ko hated drinking, but he always said it made her more fun. She took the cup and tried to match her boyfriend's pace. She just hoped she wouldn't say anything stupid. As long as she made him happy, everything would be great-

-Kola strode forwards with a snarl. The crowd before her backed up even more. A disturbance was made obvious at the other end of the crowd as a small group pushed against the now pale-faced majority.

She reached one of the piles and began cutting free the white, salt-crusted cloth covering. Gently raising the cloth (underneath which was a clumsily stacked mess of carved wooden jewellery, utensils, and poles) with her pincers, she eventually got it around her shoulders. In the process she gained experience in the surely useful art of moving things with what were essentially two giant pairs of scissors. Also elbows.

Seeing this, much of the crowd's fear was replaced, or at least subdued by, bafflement. Their leering, on the other hand, was met with a glare. This worked surprisingly well. Apparently pincer hands and sharp feet a very intimidating woman do make.

An odd feeling of accomplishment was interrupted by shouting from inside the crowd's mass. A group of more than ten soldiers were revealed as they made some progress at organising a corridor through the cluster of people. Reginald scuttled up beside Kola, now holding a musket, and pointed out two figures.

One was a short, fat man wearing a large pink coat with pearl buttons and silver embroidery. He was clearly the Captain as he wore the classic tricorn hat that was surely a badge of naval authority throughout existence.

The other was a tall, stern looking man who wore a long grey and white hooded robe. Most likely the Chaplain by virtue of being aesthetically distinct. Kola rubbed her suddenly irritated eyes with her forearm before finishing her analysis.

The Chaplain also wore a beaded necklace with a large silver ornament in the shape of a circle. Overall he seemed harmless enough.

The Captain, however, had a sheathed sword at his side and a pistol in his hand. Also they were both backed by almost a full score of soldiers.

Despite their collective status as a well armed group and, she assumed, being in charge of the ship, they were still having difficulty moving through the crowd. The latter as whole seemed to take great pleasure in slowing them down. Maybe Reginald wasn't the only one dissatisfied with the ship's leadership. Prompted by that thought Kola scanned the crowd, but failed to find anyone else with four arms. Was he the only one that could summon her?

Suddenly, the crowd rushed aside as the soldiers started using their bayonets to encourage them. The Captain shouted something and pointed his pistol at Reginald.

Both these actions were met with an angry rumbling from the crowd and a loud crack that rang out from beside her. One of the soldiers dropped with a hole in his chest.

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At this point everyone went crazy. The crowd pressed forwards against the soldiers, who had to stop their advance and fend them off. Thomas fired his pistol at Reginald but it hit Kola instead, on account of him having tactically repositioned behind her. The shot was accompanied by a dim red light from the barrel and the lead ball burned clean through her torso, narrowly missing the cowering summoner.

Being burnt wasn't an entirely new experience for Kola. She had received a few from Z-

-that dead bastard. Being able to look through her body, however, was quite novel. As someone who had not been fond of new experiences ever since she met the mist, Kola reacted to Captain Thomas's attempt to share an aspect of Skiron military culture by charging at him.

Proving to be surprisingly nimble despite his weight and much more used to the ship's rocking, the Captain moved towards Kola and dodged to the right as she swung her pincers at him. He moved around her, cutting her neck as he went. By the time she turned to face him he had stabbed into her three times. At least two of those should have been lethal attacks, but the pierced lung and cut arteries did not slow her down in the slightest.

Kola's turn had also brought her into view of Reginald and the Chaplain. Their fight was much less violent. The Chaplain stood above him and appeared to be ranting while Reginald still held the musket, but seemed hesitant to use it. She was brought back into focus on her own fight when her left eye went dark.

This was quite terrifying as, unlike her other injuries, losing an eye came with worse consequences than mere pain. Panicked, Kola flailed her pincers at him. This succeeded in forcing him back, but not much else.

In this case panic proved not to be the most optimal counter to a skilled combatant. Captain Thomas avoided Kola's strikes long enough that, combined with his practised footwork, he was able to reach her left side and hamstring her. As elegant as his manoeuvre appeared to onlookers, it did not have the desired effect. Or any effect really. Assuming her next move to be collapsing, and planning for that, Thomas was taken by surprise as Kola instead twisted around and elbowed him in the head. Despite being only a glancing blow, her unnatural strength was enough to knock him down. Gleefully raising her left foot to stomp down on him, panic relieved by the reversal in situation, she became furious as he was able to roll out of the way. This frustration quickly abated as inspiration came to her.

As Thomas reached his feet, Kola moved between him and a wall. She braced herself with her pincers flat against said wall. When he came at her with a cut across her stomach she raised her right leg, though not quickly enough to block it. What she was quick enough to do was kick out at him. He was able to jump back and smiled as Kola overextended herself. She smiled back as the curled ribbons on her foot shot out and launched Thomas through the opposing wall.

The loud crash attracted everyone's attention and the soldiers had to put even more effort into holding back the increasingly rowdy crowd. To the extent that the two groups were almost fighting each other.

The Chaplain broke off from his ranting with a final stern word before turning towards Kola, pulling his necklace free and holding it towards her.

As the Chaplain moved towards her still unharmed, Reginald finally did something useful and ran towards the stunned Captain, intent on finishing him. At least that was what she hoped he was doing. If he wasn't she would later have to take the time to explain to him the etiquette of helping in a fight. Especially when he had summoned her very specifically for this purpose.

Having already dismissed the approaching man as a threat, Kola reviewed her options. She didn't want to kill someone who couldn't hurt her. That would feel like bullying. Maybe she could knock him out if he didn’t back down. Hit him in the head? Choke him out?

Three things happened while Kola was lost in thought. Reginald picked up Captain Thomas's pistol and sword which had been dropped when the latter was sent flying. He quickly reached the stunned man, raising the sword high, and ended his career in the Expeditionary Fleet of the Skiron Crown.

Seeing their leader now dead, the common crew members that made up the crowd began fighting the soldiers in earnest. Now, instead of shoving and shouting, suddenly quiet and serious men revealed belaying pins and daggers. A dead captain meant consequences for everyone.

Ignoring all of this, the Chaplain advanced holding high the symbol of his faith. With a voice full of righteousness and zeal he began chanting hymns. Belief writ in song inspired by the wind blowing over stony beaches. An ethereal music that Kola felt on her face, rousing her.

A cold wind surrounded her, bringing the scent of pastures and tree sap. Not a calm wind, but one gathering. The herald of a storm.

As she had with the bloody triangles, Kola really looked at the Chaplain. Her gaze was met with eyes that burned with glory and beauty, warmth and wrath. Not hers though. Never hers. It told her that she did not belong. That this world was not hers.

She felt weak. Weaker than she had ever been at Zair's hands. Here was something to truly fear. If only she could flee.

She tried to, but the wind held her fast. Ripping at her. Pulling. Biting.

Kola didn't know what the others saw. Whatever it was, it was enough for Reginald to react. He swung the Captain's sword only for it to become stuck in the wall as a violent swell caused almost everyone to stumble. With inexperienced movements, he began to load the still-glowing pistol.

Too late for Kola. The chanting merged with the now screaming wind, and both reached a crescendo that violently shook the ship.

The last thing she heard as the wind tore the skin from her body, was a gunshot.

Then.

Nothing.