Konrad was nearing the end of his watch on the deck of Elena. The moon was bright in the cloudless night sky, and a steady wind filled the sails.

Feeling foolish, he stood at the front of the ship, wondering how to use his new powers from Avram. Holding out his hand, he felt the black sword fall heavily into his grasp. He then imagined the protective armor he had seen in the windows of stores in Helgan's Rest; shadows flowed around him, leaving an etherial layer on his chest and back.

"What do you think, Spirit?" He asked, admiring his new armor.

Spirit ran around the deck and slid to a halt in front of him. When she stopped, two shadow creatures burst out of her and stalked towards him. They were exact copies of Spirit, except they were black with red eyes. They growled, showing their long teeth as they circled him.

Konrad stepped forward, letting the sword flow as an extension of his arm, as Briarstone had taught him. The black blade swept through one of the wraiths, then he snapped back and thrust into the other as it lunged for him. Spirit barked and jumped up at him, licking his face.

"That’s going to be useful training," he said.

After a yawn that cracked his jaw, Konrad got up to wake Briarstone for his turn at watch, but before he stepped down the hatch, he saw a glimmer of light at the bow of the ship.

The mysterious waif was standing at the rail, staring up at the moon, wide-eyed.

"Hello," Konrad said.

Spirit lay down and whined, but the figure didn’t look at them, seemingly so spellbound by the moon that it didn’t want to miss a moment gazing at it. The waif slowly raised its hand, and Konrad stopped, thinking he was being told not to approach. But the waif made a circular motion, and a perfectly round window opened in the air.

Konrad peered through and saw another endless sea, but this was no ocean; it was a great desert. The sun burned brightly in the sky, and waves of heat shimmered across the sand.

"What are you showing me?" Konrad asked.

A movement through the window caught his attention, and Konrad spotted a tiny figure cresting a sand dune on the horizon. Even at this distance, he recognized her cat-like movements immediately.

"Athir," he called.

Athir broke into a run, and Konrad quickly saw the reason why. Two gigantic, dusty spiders crested the dune behind her, their movements rapid as they hunted her down. Where Athir had to slide and tumble down the sand, the spiders tucked in their great, hairy legs and rolled, gaining ground.

"Athir run!" Konrad shouted. "Over here!"

To his astonishment, Athir looked up directly at him and started running with renewed urgency.

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"Quickly, over here!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

Athir followed the sound of his frantic shouting until she was standing directly in front of the window. Her mouth moved, but he couldn’t hear her words.

"Athir, it’s me, Konrad. Climb through the window. We’re on a boat on the western ocean."

Now that she was up close, he could see that she was thin and tired, her skin crusted in dust and burned from the harsh sun. He reached forward, but his hand passed right through the image.

Her lips moved, and he thought he saw her mouth his name.

"Yes, it’s me. Climb through the window," he cried desperately.

Setting her shoulders, she grasped the air with both hands and climbed through.

Konrad looked around frantically, seeing only the empty deck of the ship. The image showed only the sand blowing over the desert and the giant spiders bounding towards him. They thundered past the window, and Konrad fell backward, landing heavily on the deck. When he looked up, the image was gone.

The waif remained for a second, staring at the moon, and just as Konrad was about to call out to him, he too vanished.

"Who were you shouting at?" Briarstone asked, stepping onto the deck, sword in hand.

"Briarstone, we have to go south, to the desert; it’s my friend; she’s in trouble."

"The desert? You won’t get there any faster than we’re already going; you'd have to go past the Lost Coast. What’s gotten into you? Who’s this friend?"

"Her name is Athir, and she’s a champion like me."

"Listen, you can’t do much from here, so take a breath and tell me what happened. Nice and slow like." Briarstone leaned on the rail next to him, flicking a match and puffing gently on his pipe.

Konrad slumped down on the deck and leaned against the railing of the ship. He recounted what he had seen and told Briarstone about Athir and how she had helped him with his first quest in the temple of Lyran in Tajar. He didn’t hold anything back, and when the old sailor asked him about the waif, he told him about the shrine and how his leg had been fixed. Finally, he told him about the visit to the cave and how the waif had given them food and water and made Serena dry and warm.

Briarstone was silent for a moment, and all that could be heard was the gentle lapping of the sea on the side of the boat.

"Your mysterious god sounds more like a Faelen."

"Avram said that the Faelen left this world and built another place."

Briarstone nodded. "I know folk who’ll swear blind that Faelen are as real as witches and arcanists and any other type of magical being. Plenty of stories about ships sailing through the ocean and seeing windows to red lands, jungles, or deserts."

"I wonder why they left?"

"It’s not something I know much about. There’s was a lad in Portia who would have known more, he was always talking about Faelen myths and legends, he’d talk about them for hours." Briarstone's eyes crinkled at whatever memory their conversation brought to mind.

"Then how does he keep coming through? He must have some power; he gave me this," Konrad said, pointing to his leg. "Before I met him, I couldn’t walk properly."

"Ain’t no-one said that they’re powerless. How does he seem to you, this Faelen?"

Konrad thought about his encounters with the waif and how he ignored him for the most part.

"He seems like he doesn’t see me. He helps, but it’s almost like he does it as an afterthought."

“Perhaps he’s touched in the head, there’s some that say that the Echo is a terrible place." Briarstone tapped out his pipe on the railing and peered up at the flapping sails. "Best you get some rest, Konrad, and don’t mention any of this to Renau, alright? You know how he gets about magic and such."

Konrad made his way below deck and found a space to curl up with Spirit. He dreamed of doorways between worlds and a desolate place where everything was familiar but different—a world that was a cruel mockery of his own, populated by hopeless strays.