A boat’s central location, Dimitry once read in a cruise pamphlet, was where the vessel rocked least. That was why he spent all day sitting in the middle of the cargo hold. Theoretically, staying here should dampen the seasickness. It was his only hope in a ceaseless struggle to suppress the urge to vomit that grew with every one of the boat’s nauseating rolls and sways.

And it wasn’t working.

The pamphlet was full of shit.

Attempting to keep himself distracted from the nagging discomfort in his gut, rising and falling like the tides, Dimitry palpated the bulging core of one palm. Although the collection of turgid purple vessels bounced back painfully with every stroke, they ached much less than yesterday. Ignacius’ treatments were working. The wizard used magic to decrease the pressure in Dimitry’s circuits, causing them to gradually retreat under his skin.

Disappointingly, Dimitry couldn’t replicate the therapy—to do so required the ability to cast relaxia among other spells. When he asked Ignacius for magic lessons, the old man laughed, saying it would take months to attain a basic understanding of relaxia and even longer to cast the spell with the control necessary to assuage overload’s symptoms.

A disappointing development.

Iron footsteps against wood interrupted the sound of creaking planks and sloshing water. It was the Zeran shield, Reece. He descended the ladder into the cargo hold and held up his arms as if to catch a basketball rebounding from an overhead hoop. “You can climb down now. Don’t worry! I’ll catch you if you fall!”

“Okay…” Selene quietly replied. Her foot shot down to a lower rung on the ladder, then retreated. The process repeated for several minutes.

Dimitry shook his head. Was a hesitant child like that supposed to be humanity’s defense against the stone giants raiding the world’s coasts? Either there was something he didn’t know, or the Church was desperate. He turned away from the scene, hoping that Reece wouldn’t strike up a conversation with him.

But his fears always became a reality.

“Hey, Arnest,” Reece said. “What are you up to?”

Dimitry suppressed his sigh. Although a pulsating headache made conversation laborious, staying within the knight’s graces was a priority. “Just trying to keep my lunch inside my stomach. How about you?”

“Oh, you know. Just taking a look around, seeing what everyone’s up to.” Reece leaned his shield against a layered plank wall. “Rosaline had me reciting prayers all morning. I just had to get away, know what I mean? I know Zera’s great and all, but I don’t think we’ll impress her by repeating the same passages over and over—”

Reece’s monologue ended when he turned back to look at Selene. The little girl crept towards Saphiria, who sat motionless in the corner, eager to avoid attention.

Saphiria’s unwillingness to converse sourced from the two articles of sacrilegious luggage beneath her cloak: a faerie and a collar with a suppressed enchantment. If Zerans discovered either, the uneventful journey would end here.

A situation Dimitry had to prevent.

“Selene,” he shouted as excitedly and child-friendly as possible. “Want to see something really cool?”

Five steps from Saphiria, the child stopped and turned back. Curiosity filled her eyes.

Now that Dimitry had Selene’s attention, he needed to find something ‘cool’ to show her. Did such an object exist? Frantically digging through his leather bag, he pushed aside shreds of fabric, primitive surgery tools, and bottles—all mundane items from the perspective of a child.

Then he found something that might work. It was a dumb idea, but also the only one he could enact with guaranteed results.

“Come look at this rock I found!” Dimitry held up the black orb from the cathedral’s shrine. The relic begged to show him a vision. Although he tried to resist its pull, it quickly overpowered his senses.

Time froze.

Alien algae seeped in through the boat’s hull while tumors and creatures rose from the floor, one of them enveloping Selene, melting the child’s skin before replacing it with a rough green carapace. Her spine bent with a loud crack and her face disfigured. Insatiable hunger in her eyes, she glared at Dimitry. A horrific vision he never wanted to see again.

Time resumed.

Dimitry’s shoulders loosened when he saw Selene was safe. She approached him with greedy, outstretched hands. He never intended to hand the relic over, but after seeing that, his thoughts on the matter intensified. “You can only look.”

Selene studied the object at arm’s length before running to Reece.

Crisis averted.

The young knight rested a hand on the child’s shoulder and shot a glance at Saphiria. His righteous glare sought to make amends. “Arnest, is your friend alright? She’s been sitting in the same spot all day. I think she might be in pain.”

Dimitry massaged his forehead. Not another one. He thought the Church would be terrifying in person, but Selene was just a curious child and Reece a do-gooder. All undesirable traits. Considering what Saphiria hid under her hood, their desire to butt into other people’s business was a disaster in the making.

To keep Precious and Saphiria’s secrets hidden, Dimitry concocted a scheme based on an illness that existed even in medieval times. “Have you ever heard of rabies?”

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Reece frowned. “What’s that?”

Did the virus not exist in this world, or did it merely go by a different name? “It’s an ailment that spreads through biting. When rabies attacks a host, it makes them want to bite others to spread the disease. Does that sound familiar?”

“Do you speak of the poison fyrhounds and vicious dogs bear in their teeth? In Olsten, we hunt down entire packs to stem the outbreak every summer. People get really sick otherwise.”

“Precisely. The poison those dogs have in their teeth is what we doctors call rabies.” Dimitry pointed to Saphiria. “She’s my patient. To defend a small village, she fought off an entire pack of fyrhounds alone, getting bit in the process. Unfortunately, one of those fyrhounds had rabies. The poison spread to the girl.”

The knight’s eyes opened wide. “Are you saying she sacrificed herself for innocents?” He faced Saphiria and bowed. “I commend you, brave stranger. May I one day possess your valor as well.”

“She’s a hero,” Dimitry said. “My hero. Out of gratitude for saving my village, I vowed to heal her, to do whatever it takes, but the only cure for rabies lies in a distant land. That is why we are aboard this ship.”

Reece stepped forward. “I wish to help!”

“And you can.” Dimitry prepared a lie devoid of medical truth. “It is rare, but sometimes rabies affects humans as it does dogs. My patient suffers such a fate. She works hard every day to fight back the temptation to bite others, and her will is strong, but by getting close, you only entice her. The impulse is stronger than you can imagine. Please show her the respect she deserves by keeping a distance. If she tried to bite through your metal armor, it’d break her teeth.”

Dimitry thought he heard a faerie giggling.

The old man, who stayed silent for hours, lowered his pipe and blew a thick cloud of minty smoke. “That boy speaks the truth. The little miss can certainly be vicious if you get too close. I advise against it.”

Reece pivoted as if to rush away. “Are you sure you don’t want me to get the gospel? If I read them—”

“While I appreciate it,” Dimitry said, “she gets headaches when people make too much noise. It’s better if we just stay silent.”

Saphiria bared her teeth. It was adorable.

Reece dragged his gaze away from her. “Come on, Selene. Let’s quietly watch some more islands drift by.”

The child’s head twisted curiously as the knight guided her up to the deck.

Lying to an honest boy evoked discomfort within Dimitry, but Saphiria’s safety was more important than transient discomfort. He sat beside her. “Hey. Sorry if I said something stupid. Rabies was all I could come up with at the time.”

“I understand,” Saphiria said coldly, “but if you give Precious any more ammunition, I may end up biting you.”

“I didn’t mean anything by it.”

A slight smile vanished from Saphiria’s face as quickly as it appeared.

Dimitry sighed. “You’re having fun teasing me, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.”

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

Two more days passed. When Dimitry didn’t receive treatments from Ignacius, he sat still, suppressing the urge to hurl. To his delight, the impulse gradually lessened. The newfound hope of relaxed travel and a growing apathy birthed from staying in the cargo hold for three continuous days impelled him to venture a trip to the deck.

Leaning over the boat’s railings, Dimitry watched gentle, green waves brush against the hull. Water bumped against wooden planks and toppled back down, forming a thin layer of white foam on the ocean surface that bubbled away as quickly as it appeared, icy winds carrying up the salty and earthy odor with every gale.

Dimitry inhaled a deep breath and released it slowly. White mist departed his nostrils, leaving behind a long-forgotten sense of tranquility. The calm dismissed tension from all parts of his body. All parts except one—his right arm.

The emblem on his wrist gently pulled towards a distant, dark green horizon. Was there a shrine in that direction?

Beside him, Old Man Bryce tapped on an oak cask, which emitted a hollow sound. “Fucking thing’s almost empty,” he mumbled.

“Bryce,” Dimitry said.

The seasoned boat captain wiped his forehead with the back of his arm. “What?”

Dimitry pointed over the ship’s side. “Are there any cities that way?”

“You’re pointing to the south—only endless water and ice there. Have you been puffing on that old bastard’s pipe or somethin’?”

Was he talking about Ignacius? Although his choice of otherworldly smoking product interested Dimitry, the emblem’s pull intrigued him more. “You’re sure about that?”

“I’ve been doing this sailing shit for twenty years.” Old Man Bryce carried the cask away. “Nothing there but ice sheets and scattered islands.”

“I see. Thanks.” Dimitry leaned over the ship’s side once more. He couldn’t tell if his arm gravitated towards the horizon or distant ocean depths; the constant bobbing complicated differentiating between the two. Whichever the case may be, the emblem’s guidance was irrelevant. Dimitry’s priority was getting to Coldust alive. Shrines, especially those erected in the middle of the ocean, held no appeal.

“What are you up to?” a boisterous voice approached from behind. That of Reece.

Just when Dimitry managed to relax, the knight had to appear again. He turned around. “I was just enjoying the fresh air and silence.”

“You too, huh? I don’t like it when things are too loud either. It ruins the ambiance. There’s this one guy back in Crucium who never stopped talking.” Reece laughed. “But then again, neither do I.” He paused for a moment that didn’t last anywhere near as long as Dimitry hoped it would. “Say… about your patient in the cargo hold.”

“What about her?”

“I don’t mean to sound rude, but should you let her just sit in the same spot all day? I’m not a doctor or surgeon or cleric, but… it’s just weird to me.”

Dimitry placed an arm on Reece’s shoulder. It was time to build rapport with the enemy. “I can tell that you worry a lot about other people. You’re a great man and a dutiful knight.”

Reece massaged the back of his neck. “Well, thank you. That’s very nice of you to say.”

“I couldn’t hope for anyone more reliable to protect us from the heathens.”

“Stop it.” Reece laughed.

A distant, deep whistle pierced the night, interrupting Dimitry’s train of thought.

“Oh… oh, no.” Reece stepped back. “I’m going to get Selene and madam Rosaline. Arnest, get to the cargo hold.”

“Wait!” Dimitry shouted over the sudden noise. “What’s happening?”

There was no reply. Reece dashed across the deck, already halfway to the cabin.

Old Man Bryce and the crew glanced over the ship’s side. No one said a word. Then, as if coming to grips with the situation, they shouted and darted in every direction, preparing for some mysterious disaster.

The whistling grew louder.

What was a calm surface now erupted with meter-high waves around an approaching body. A giant blob, shaped like a blimp, slowly rose from the ocean depths. The thousands of lines carving its gray carapace swerved and interlaced like those of heathens Dimitry saw near Estoria’s port and forest. Their blue glow illuminated the night.

“Reece, stay in front!” the bishop commanded as she strutted across the deck. “Make sure to block every feather from the flying devils while I kill the carrier.”

The Zeran knight barged forward with his giant steel shield held in front of him. “Yes, madam!”

“Selene, stay behind me. Watch carefully, but don’t move! Learn as much as you can!”

The little girl cowered behind the bishop.

“I’m counting on you, your holinesses!” Old Man Bryce said. “Celeste guide us.”

Dimitry ran for the cargo hold as instructed, but stopped midway. Although his knees shook and cold sweat covered his hands, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the bizarre sight of a giant heathen.

It floated around a hundred meters away. After releasing another deep whistle, two flaps opened on its back.