"So you've escaped," came a familiar voice, followed by a cackle. My hands curled tighter into the sand.

My arms were shaking from weakness as they held me up, and my throat begged for water. I wanted to move, yet I couldn't. I wanted to respond to the man from the sea, yet I also didn't.

Was I hallucinating again, or had I just landed on the strange man's island? I had escaped from Rakfall as he said, but now I was trapped on a rock in the middle of the sea.

"Your flames are now in control, I see," the old man observed, and I wondered how he knew, just like he had known my flames had been raging inside me all those weeks ago. It felt like eons had passed, yet here he was again.

He sighed, then his feet kicked through the sand as he approached me. A hand landed on my shoulder, and then an icy wave rushed through me. It felt like he'd doused me with freezing water, and I relished in the feeling under the burning sun.

When the sensation faded, my ankles and shoulders no longer throbbed from where the sirens had clawed into me, and my skin no longer stung from the sunburns I had gained. I was no longer thirsty, and my cracked lips didn't hurt with every breath.

[Vitality +1]

I leaned back onto my knees, resting on my heels. Along with the man's disappearing act, it seemed like he had some healing skill.

"Thank you," I said reluctantly.

"Merely a drop, merely a drop," he chuckled. Again, I had no idea what the fuck he meant.

Despite the healing, I was still tired to the bone and wished I had some flat surface to pass out on. A real shower would also be nice, and I huffed out a breath. So many things I consciously wished for, and I felt some amusement at the unfamiliar feelings.

"What now?" I asked both the man and the air.

"Now, we stand. Come along, come along," he answered. I pushed to my feet and did as he said.

The sand faded into dirt, clumps of grass here and there brushing against my bare feet. The man was silent as he walked, seemingly in contrast to his odd personality.

Dirt made way to smooth stone, and the silence was filled by the distant murmur of voices and laughter. The air was the cleanest I had smelled, crisp and bright under the heat of the sun. The man from the sea stopped before me, and once again, that hand fell to my shoulder.

"Welcome to the outermost island of the Raugan Islands, Cain. I'm Gaven, and I'm quite glad this is your next stop in this world," he murmured, like it was a secret.

I breathed in deeply and didn't question how Gaven knew my name. "What now?" I instead asked again, stupidly. He didn't respond this time, only pushed me along.

Conversation among the island's people stopped when I passed, then turned into whispers I didn't bother listening to. Soon the street turned back into dirt, letting me know the village of this island was quite a small one and worth practically no notice.

I could hear birds singing around us as we walked, filling my head with aimless chatter. Here the tangy smell of sickly sweet fruit filled my nose, like the point of time when it was just past ripeness and falling into decay.

The walk ended swiftly, and Gaven cleared his throat. "Here is my place of purpose. The temple of Aramith welcomes all, and that includes even you, yes it does."

I followed him up a set of marble steps, the stone cold beneath my feet. The sound of massive doors creaking open announced our arrival. They slowly swung shut behind me once I'd stepped past.

"I felt when you passed the reef, I did. The ocean is quite the gossiper," Gaven offered up with no urging. "What a pleasant surprise it was, to see you reach your destination, but interestingly not by boat." His voice echoed through the building we had entered, the sounds turning bright and airy.

"That wasn't by choice," I responded.

"When it comes to the God of the Sea, nothing is ever really by choice. The sea ebbs and flows and sometimes takes me with it," he mused. "This time, it took you along as well."

"Is that how you ended up in Rakfall?"

"I knew of my journey, but never of my destination. My purpose, sometimes. Fickle thing, the sea. It grows bored of its routine."

I understood his talk of the ocean as if it were a living thing. It was unrelenting, dragging me under, and never ceased moving. Ending on this island still felt like an afterthought of the water—an amusing whim.

Gaven walked further into the temple, beckoning me along. He turned, and another door opened, leading outside once again. He hummed as he walked, easily pulling me along with his will.

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"Some human needs are not meant for Aramith's House. You'll find a pool inside to wash away the sand, and clothes to replace your rags. I'll always be waiting inside the temple." Gaven melodically said, opening the door of another, smaller building.

This place was made of wood, and my hand found the grooves along the wall. Gaven closed the door behind me, and I was alone.

I quickly found the door leading to the bath and relished in the cool water that submerged me, so different from the thick salt water of the ocean.

Itchiness in my scalp faded when I dunked my head under and scrubbed my hands through my hair. I felt fully separated from my ordeal with the sirens once I emerged from the water and dressed.

Everything was soft and fit my body—even the shoes that were made of some fabric I couldn't identify.

Reentering the main room, I found a pitcher of water on a tabletop with a glass next to it. Greedily I drank, washing away the lingering taste of salt. Afterward, I sat against one of the walls. I let my mind wander, not wanting to rush back to Gaven. It wasn't until my hair was fully dry that I finally stood, stretching my neck from side to side.

I followed the path back to the temple, and the priest walked alongside me as I found the prints where Gaven and I had disturbed the dirt. The side door was difficult to find, seams hidden among the grooves and patterns carved into the wall's stone.

Turning to look at him, I asked, "Not coming with?" He shook his head, robes fluttering.

"I don't worship this god," he rasped. My eyebrows raised.

"And which one do you worship?" The question was only answered by another shake of the head. I sighed, hand tightening around the doorknob.

"We mustn't trust him easily," the priest warned. "Such power is reminiscent of Davion."

"I know. I feel it—but Gaven could've killed me already if he wanted to." I leaned forward, thunking my head against the door. "When will it stop? When will I stop running?"

"When the world catches up to you, or when there is no one left to give chase."

I took a breath and opened the door.

The sound of Gaven's quiet murmurs greeted me as I entered the hall, low and near the front of the building. I found the first row of pews and sat, waiting for him to finish. He spoke in a language I did not recognize, every word flowing together melodically in his rough voice.

Not long after I'd sat, he stood, knees cracking. He came and sat next to me, leaning back with a groan.

"I'm getting old; such is the way. Nothing will outlive the sea, but still, I wish to watch its beauty till that day," he yearned. "I have a job for you, I do, only if you want it. It's quite fateful that you washed up when you did."

"What is it?" I asked. But what choice did I have but to take it, no matter what it was? There was nowhere else for me to go. However, I felt I wouldn’t mind it either way.

"Our lighthouse on the other side of the island needs a caretaker. I can no longer go back and forth between this House and it. My bones are weary, and your flames are bright," Gaven described. "All it takes is a spark fed throughout the night, and perhaps some upkeep during the day. Food and supplies will be provided as long as you return to the village every week, and no ships bound for our islands will fear the fog."

I shrugged. "I'll do it," I said simply.

"Such a fortuitous day," Gaven laughed. "I'll show you the way."

We left, him and I, greeted by the breeze that smelled of brine and sunlight. The village passed by on our right, but the path to the lighthouse didn't lead through it. The way grew steeper, rocks and gravel replacing dirt.

The wind was fiercer up here, making the cloth of my shirt whip around my body. Gaven slowed as we moved farther, his body indeed plagued by old age. Yet I still sensed that deep power inside him, violent like the sea. It was more subtle than Davion's had been, but it seemed even more formidable.

It didn't take long to reach the lighthouse, giving me a sense of the island’s size. The wood door loudly creaked as Gaven opened it, stepping inside with a pleased hum. Dust immediately assaulted my nose.

"I haven't found time to keep this wonderful lighthouse in top shape, but there's no damage, whether it be rot or broken stairs," Gaven mused. "You'll find a broom and other supplies on this floor. Now, up we go."

The steps creaked as we walked up, spiraling along the wall. I let my hand brush against it with every step. Gaven stopped at the next landing, pausing to take a breath.

"Here are your new quarters. Bed, table, storage bin, and not quite enough room. I've never used it, but perhaps you'll find it comfortable," he told me, tone light. And then we were back on our way up.

"This is the most important stop, I believe," he said as we made it to the top, the door at the end of the stairs opening to a small room. Gaven directed me to a ladder, ushering me up first. As I climbed, I reached my hand upwards, finding the trapdoor and pushing it up.

I climbed out, waiting for Gaven to join me. He pulled himself up with a grunt, then closed the trapdoor behind him with a clattering thud.

"Now, this will be quite simple for you," he began. "Due to your handy fire, no pesky oil is needed to light the beacon. We've had to import it by the gallon. Here, come examine this."

He grabbed my wrist, drawing my hand forward. He placed it on one of those levers you pull down to switch a machine on, made of heavy metal.

"I designed this machinery myself, many, many years ago," Gaven told me proudly. "Once the flame is lit, you'll pull this lever down to activate the searchlight. It will constantly swing over the ocean, back and forth, back and forth.

"Sometimes it will jam up, but if you turn it off and give it a little grease along here…" Gaven dragged my hand up, brushing it over a mass of gears and cogs. "...it will start right up again once you switch it back on."

"I just need to keep my flames alive all night, right?" I asked. "How will I know when to start, and how will I know it's morning?"

He hummed, ruminating. "The birds will signal the dawn, so that is no problem. Oh!" The sound of cloth rustling, then the rhythmic ticking of a cog turning 'round. He gripped the back of my hand, then placed a circular metal object inside it.

"Here. A little shared secret between us two. I'm gifting it to you, and it will ring when it's time to light the beacon." Gaven laughed—it was a mischievous sound.

I ran my thumb over the smooth glass surface of the object, the chain coiling around my fingers.

If there was one thing I'd learned in this world, it was that the creation of a pocket watch of this caliber was years into the future. A shared secret, indeed.