“Tch!” Leira said as Skuld disappeared from view. “That old fool didn’t show us how to work his shitty boat.”

“I guess he forgot,” Gwil said.

“Yeah, ‘cause you freaked him out,” Leira said. “I can’t believe Ashkana’s brother is such a quack. But it can’t be a coincidence he found us here. She’s like a chess master.”

They walked toward the dinghy, breaking into a run as a particularly aspirational wave came close to pulling the boat out to sea.

The hail had stopped, and the rain may have let up a touch. It was tough to tell with such a downpour.

Gwil inspected the boat. The hull was intact, but that was about all the praise he could lay on the thing. Rusty nails stuck out all over the place, and there was more shoddy patchwork than original material. It barely had enough space for two people, and that was to say nothing of its capacity to actually bear that weight.

“Why do they even make boats out of wood anymore?” Leira said. “The mast, at least, should be made of metal if you ask me.”

Gwil knew nothing of boatbuilding, but this mast had been snapped in half and repaired with a strip of sheet metal. It went crooked at the breakpoint.

“It’ll hold,” Gwil said. “Or Skuld wouldn’t have given it to us.”

“Do you know how to… work the sail or whatever?” Leira said, making a flapping gesture.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Gwil said. “But we’d better go now. Look, the wind. It’s blowing straight toward the mainland. If that changes, we’ll be stuck.”

“Alright,” Leira said. “But I hope you’re a good swimmer, because if we go overboard, I’ll be clinging to you.”

They pushed the boat down the pitted, storm-ravaged beach, and were forced to frantically jump in as the tide gobbled up the little vessel.

Leira sat herself down and wrapped one arm around the mast, and the other around Gwil’s leg to help him stay upright as he made to unfurl the sail.

It felt like they were riding down a waterfall. The battering was merciless. In a blink, they’d been dragged some fifty meters out, while being spun around so that the bow pointed toward the shore they’d just left.

Gwil coiled the sheet rope around his hand and released the sail. With a booming clap, the sail ballooned with wind, and the boat surged ahead while facing backwards.

They both screamed as the boat pitched back and forth between swirling currents. Water poured in over the sides. Leira made a pitiable attempt to scoop some out with her hand.

A violent lurch threw Gwil over the side. He clung to the rope, legs dangling in the water. The boom was going wild, wrenching him all around.

The boat dipped hard onto one side – Gwil’s head went under.

An enormous wave launched them into the air, with the bow pointed toward the sky. Gwil saw Leira dangling sideways from the mast before he was dunked again at the impact of their landing.

His breath caught; his limbs seized at the frigid water. He was stuck beneath the sail, blocked from surfacing, but he didn’t dare risk letting go of the rope.

Gwil threw an arm up as the hull crashed into him. He clung to the boat as it thrashed. For one fleeting moment, he surfaced, given the chance to draw a single breath before being sucked back under.

A shadow out of the darker depths. A squid-shark. A stream of bubbles erupted from Gwil’s lips—precious air. The creature circled beneath his flailing legs.

Gwil tracked the mindless beast, waiting…

The shark lunged. Gwil aimed a stomp at its snout.

And connected – the beast’s gnashing jaws clamped down on nothing. But its face-tentacles had snaked around his leg. The shark pulled him down. Gwil’s arm, still knotted in the rope, felt like it was going to be torn off.

Air. Air. I need to breathe. Crippling panic stole through him.

His blood ignited.

Gwil twisted around with inhuman force. The flesh of his snared foot was flayed off, but it jerked free.

The squid-shark went into a frenzy. It spun in a circle, whipping Gwil with the brunt of its heavy tail.

He fell back, dazed. The blow had torn his hand from the rope, shearing skin and cutting him loose from the boat.

Gaping jaws. Gwil ducked his head, locked his fingers, and threw his arms up. With both hands, he jabbed inward. His fingertips burst through soft, squishy grapes.

The shark spasmed with the pain of having its eyes gouged. Its skull crashed hard into Gwil’s chest as it turned to flee. His sternum cracked. He was sinking.

I need to breathe.

He tried to kick, to reach for the surface, but his limbs were limp and useless. Blood from his leg trailed upward.

Sinking downward.

Darkness encroached. Within the black depths, he saw ethereal silhouettes comprised of fluttering moths. Some were near, others far. All shapes and sizes – big fish, little fish packed in schools, octopi, more sharks, anemones, and bacteria. All the life in the sea, traced by Nirva.

Looking up to the surface, he could see Leira, outlined in her mottled hues.

I need to breathe. Leira will be alone. ‘Don’t you dare abandon her.’

But his lungs cared nothing for his desperation. Gwil continued to sink. I can’t do anything. Dammit, I didn’t even survive for one day. The thought made him laugh. One last spurt of air bubbled out. Nothing left. The glowing auras were twinkling out.

Smothered, Gwil felt himself plummet. Rushing down the path to hell.

And then he was soaring. He gasped and sputtered and gagged. The wind and rain—sensations tickling back to life. Gwil saw the sky—he really was flying through the air.

The sea was below. And the boat, and Leira.

And disappearing back into the water, the white-scaled, finned tail of an enormous creature.

Gwil crashed down into the boat. All bleary and spinning, his head pulsing. His eyes filled with tears, he couldn’t stop coughing and choking.

“Fucking hell!” Leira shouted. She beat on his chest with her fists.

Gwil didn’t know if that was helping, but he was too weak to stop her.

Water and vomit spewed from his mouth.

“Bwahaha! Way to go, captain!”

Gwil managed to sit himself up, splashing in the water that had pooled in the boat. He couldn’t stop his teeth from chattering.

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Leira hugged him with one arm and turned him to where she was pointing. “We’re nearly there!”

The mainland. Mikara. They were less than a hundred meters away. Like a dream made real

“O-Ooh!” Gwil sputtered.

In truth, it was ugly, mangled land, just like Alnam. But Gwil didn’t care. He had eyes for the horizon, and what lay beyond. Mikara was just the first steppingstone.

What thrills and trials awaited? Who would they meet? How far could they go? North? That’s nothing. I want to see everything. Airships and cities!

Hunched and shivering, they clung to each other. The storm was breaking apart. Rippling rays of orange sunlight pierced the clouds, as if a hail of arrows had barraged the storm.

This sunset was vehement, fierce and fiery as if enraged it had been cowed by the storm. The wind caressed rather than whipped. The rain dwindled to a refreshing mist.

The sail had been ripped to shreds; it hung in tatters. But the miserable little dinghy still carried them. They were going to make it. The tide would deliver them to the shore. They need only drift along.

Gwil thumped his palm against the side of his head to dislodge some water. His Nirva—which had burned so brightly while he clung to life beneath the water—waned. His body felt brutalized. He’d been through the wringer. The bruising would probably turn him into a raisin overnight. And his foot really stung…

“Ewww!” Leira said standing up. The water in the boat was milky red with blood.

He’d forgotten! Gwil lifted his leg and was overjoyed to see his foot still attached. His boot hung in ruined flaps. It held on by the toe cap and a ring of leather around the ankle.

As for the flesh, raw, pink tissue writhed like a cluster of grubs, healing. Leira’s lip curled as she leaned closer to examine it.

“Cool!” Gwil said. “It’s like I can’t be hurt.”

“It is not like that!” Leira snapped. “You got lucky. If you needed to regrow the whole foot, it could take hours.”

“I can regrow my foot?” Gwil yelled.

Leira poked the raw flesh with her finger and Gwil squealed and spasmed as he yanked his foot away.

“What even happened?” she asked.

“Squid-shark.”

“Hm, if you knew what you were doing you could’ve shielded your skin and not gotten hurt at all,” Leira said. “And if you were really good, the shark would’ve shattered its teeth.”

Gwil wiggled his toes. “This is the only pair of shoes I brought.”

Leira moved up to stand at the bow. “Goddammit. If we’d waited another hour, we could’ve cruised across the sea in this beautiful weather.”

Gwil laughed. “What a rush though.”

“Maybe for you!” Leira said. “You had your near-death situation to distract you. All I could do was scream and panic and hold on for dear life. Hey, wait! How’d you get into the air? No way a shark did that.”

Gwil shook his head. “You didn’t see that giant white tail?”

“Huh? I didn’t see anything until you fucking landed on top of me.”

Gwil shrugged. “There was the shark, then I was drowning. I dunno. Something lifted me up; threw me out of the water.”

“Luck-augh!” The boat ran up against something and she screamed and dove down.

“We’re here,” Gwil said, rolling over the side of the boat to wade in knee-deep water. The boat had run up onto the sand.

Leira jumped out too. “Just leave the damned thing to float away.”

“Noo. She deserves better.”

They dragged the boat ashore. Gwil took his first step into the World and then collapsed onto the sand. Leira stumbled past him, wobbling like a drunk and then –

“Bleurgh!” She puked three, no, four times.

“Eugh,” Gwil said, rolling away from the flotsam that was her vomit.

Leira fell down beside him, groaning. “There goes the fish. It was so good too. We’re out of bread, aren’t we?”

“Aye,” Gwil said.

“Shut up,” Leira said.

“Hey, we made it.”

She laughed. “Yeah, you did good. I thought we were gonna die and we didn’t so.”

Gwil lay there in the cold, wet sand. Grains stuck to his lips. Dribbles of the waves were crawling up his legs.

Yesterday morning, he’d been alive. How quickly everything had changed. Yet the World turned on, heedless and blind.

Gwil knew it would be hard. Meeting Skuld made him realize he was tangled up in a lot of things he didn’t understand. Caris was no fool. She wouldn’t have been afraid without a good reason.

“We should change clothes,” Leira said. “Before we freeze to death. But I can’t move.”

Gwil tried and failed to get up. He grunted.

“You’re right,” Leira said. “Leaving that shitty boat to rot away on this beach wouldn’t be proper. But you know what would be proper?”

“Eh?”

“We should burn it and cook dinner with its flaming remains.”

Hunger eventually dragged them to their feet.

***

Leira’s proposal proved difficult to execute. The reason being that the boat—and everything else—was soaking wet.

It became an ordeal, one that they were determined to overcome. They gathered plenty of wood, but it was all waterlogged.

They found their solution in the mounds of plastic garbage that littered the beach.

They gathered up a pile of trash, drying off what they could, and then set it on fire. Then, they piled the damp wood on top of that. Hours passed. It was pitch-black by the time they had a roaring fire going. Neither of them thought the time wasted.

They dragged the boat onto the edge of the fire. They waited until it was engulfed in flames.

Then they cooked sausages.

Gwil twisted the stick that he was using as a skewer. “I wonder if Skuld had a name for it.”

“In my mind, its name is Skuld,” Leira said. “Bastard should’ve just swam us across.”

But it had been Leira that salvaged the boat’s tattered sail. She had it wrapped around herself like a blanket.

They ate and watched the boat transform into ash.

Gwil had found a strange nut-like fruit in the forest. He insisted on eating it, despite Leira’s protestations at the fruit’s foul stench and bizarre coloring. But Gwil wanted to eat something native to the land that he’d spent his life looking toward. And he’d never seen the fruit anywhere on Alnam.

He took a bite. It tasted like shit.

They slept like logs.

***

Birds were singing. It was dawn, and the sky looked feeble, as if knackered by yesterday’s storm. But a hopeful hint of blue was creeping in.

Leira yawned. “Is your stomach alright?”

Gwil nodded.

“That rancid thing was definitely poisonous. The pit was neon green.”

“I’ve got an iron stomach,” Gwil said.

He did vomit as they packed up camp, but he managed to hide it from Leira by discretely spewing into the burnt remains of the bonfire.

Gwil stood up after wrapping his destroyed boot with scraps of tarp and some bandage cloth. A decent patch. They were ready.

Leira smiled. “Well, we’re here. Which way?”

Gwil scanned the horizon. Flat, sparse fields rolled out from the beach. A wild array of jagged cliffs sprawled along the coast. That looked interesting. He pointed toward them.

“What?” Leira said. “I wasn’t asking for your preference. Check the compass! We’re meant to go find Ashkana.”

“Oh yeah.” Gwil pulled out the compass. Some water sloshed around in the casing.

“Ha!”

It turned out the coastal cliffside was the northern-most path.

They set out.

***

This is a shattered World inhabited by twice-shattered people. The mountains are splintered bones. The rivers are chronic wounds, weeping. It is a great, mangled carcass, teeming with maggots. You were butchered by superior monsters.

Your savage dreams, your thirst for dominance and violence, your desire to see your own brethren punished – all those pleasures brought to fruition by the Apocalypse.

Look what you wrought! Rejoice! These are the fruits of your prayers!

***

“It’s so beautiful!” Gwil yelled.

“Please,” Leira said, laughing. “We can still see your islands from here.”

“It goes on forever,” Gwil said.

They stood on a shelf among the towering coastal cliffs. Three hours of hard hiking had seen them here. The midday sun blazed overhead.

The rough, rocky terrain continued to ascend upward in tiers. Crags and crevices, plunging and rising. Layered within the rock were twisted formations of metal and plastic and concrete. Those unnatural bands twinkled in the light, proclaimed by the passage of time to be as much a part of the World as the stone and the dirt.

Gwil had never been so high up. Far below, the sea crashed against the rocks. These cliffs laughed at the biggest rock formations in Alnam.

Thanks to the curvature of the coast, they could see past the cliffs from where they stood. That was north. That was their destination. But they could not see what lay beyond.

Though the weather was clear and bright in the storm's wake, a massive, swirling wall of dark grey fog created a false horizon to the north. Green lightning flashed within.

“Gwil, look down there,” Leira said.

She pointed down a corridor that ran through the cliffs. An elevated shelf ran along one side, and that would be their path. But Leira was indicating the ravine below, which they couldn’t see before reaching this height.

Dark haze hung in the air above the depression, some sort of airborne silt. Looking to the end of the ravine, Gwil saw a cluster of stone spires. But they were too squared, too uniform.

“Ooh! Is that a city?”

“I think so,” Leira said. “A small one.”

“We gotta go there.”

Leira grinned. “I dunno, should we? It’s a bit out of the way.”

“Huh? C’mon, we’re not gonna only go north. We can sleep in an inn. There’ll be food. And I’ll buy you a dress.”

“With what money?”

“I’ll steal one,” Gwil said.

“Fine. We could use some supplies anyway. Not an inn, though. A proper hotel. With a pool and a gourmet restaurant.”

“A what with a what? C’mon, let’s go!”

What Came Before

Breach – 3414 Anno Domini

What was, what could be… All falls before blind madness.

The witless eye upon them. A weary blink, the curtain rises. An array of crimson lightning fractures the cosmos.

Little blue world in a cage. Insects with scalped minds, their heavens bleed.

Birth! Descent! Risen gods and woven myths. Manifest delusions and living nightmares. Their precious monstrosities abound. Rejoice!

Ruin fell as rain from a pitiless sky.

***

To frame that Apocalypse as cruel would be inaccurate. Rather, call it heedless. A spot of poor luck.

Now, witness the fools as they wander the demented labyrinth of the Willful Legion. Drink deep.

So Ends the First Tale:

Twin Slivers