“Aye, lass, what in blazes are ya doin’ up there?” Bilal called up from the deck, and Arte peered down at him. She had scaled the neck of Seafire Sally and was perched on her head, enjoying the breeze.

“Hey, Captain Bilal! I’m sorry, I just came up here to think, should I come down?” High ground had always been Arte’s favorite, and back home she would often climb the tallest trees on her family’s land when she needed to clear her head. It had not occurred to her that maybe the Captain wouldn’t want a passenger in such a potentially dangerous spot. He didn’t actually seem to mind, though, dismissing Arte’s question with a wave of his hand.

“If ya think ya won’t fall, I reckon I don’ mind!” Hands on his hips, Bilal let out one of his characteristic guffaws. “Why, I reckon I ain’t never had me a bunch o’ fares as odd as this one! What fun!” Laughing to himself, he walked away with a broad smile on his face. Relieved she wouldn’t have to move, Arte resumed horizon-gazing while the dull roar of Sally’s turbine lulled her into a state of meditation.

Mana was on its way down, indicating almost half a day had passed since they set sail with Seafire Sally and Captain Bilal. Boarding had been simple enough: once the time came the small group of waiting passengers were allowed up the ramp with a genial invitation to “make yerselves at home!” from Bilal. Kit had run ahead right away with Jamil at their heels, shouting for them to come back and to stop acting foolish. Arte followed at her own pace, taking everything in.

The only other ship she had ever been on was the military ferry she had taken from Vorrah to attend her training at Mutehall. That ship had been austere and bare, a mostly metal tank with rows of bolted-down seating that chugged along on noisy engines. Seafire Sally was much more comfortable. A small wooden deck surrounded the cabin on all sides, perhaps ten paces across from wall to railing. The boards were worn but polished, and every bit of the deck and cabin gave the impression of a well-loved craft.

Inside the cabin was cozy and clean, the main sitting area flanked by three passenger berths and a small cook-it-yourself galley. Colorful rugs covered the floor and each berth had a privacy curtain. Oil lamps burned softly from their brackets on the walls.

“Wow, it’s so nice in here!” Kit exclaimed as they darted around the cabin like a stingfly, looking at and touching everything.

‘Not bad,” Jamil agreed, tailing Kit and nodding in approval.

“Take yer pick o’ the berths there, each one’s got two bunks.” Bilal said before disappearing outside to orient the other passengers. Arte peeked around the nearest curtain to see two sturdy-looking bunk beds bolted to the walls and floor, already dressed in clean linens. A few more people had begun to trickle in so she claimed the room, setting her bag of provisions on one of the beds. Jamil soon joined her, setting down his own pack.

“A little cramped, but it’s only for one night. Should be fine,” he sighed and took his coat off, draping it over the top bunk opposite the one Arte chose. The long coat hung down, forming a makeshift curtain that he crawled behind. Arte chuckled and shook her head, placing her sword on the bed alongside her bag and left the berth to look for Kit. She found them out on deck, talking Bilal’s ear off and asking question after question about how the ship worked. The Captain was matching their enthusiasm with his responses, so Arte decided against interrupting the conversation. Instead, she strolled around the deck. Aside from the three of them, there were a total of ten other passengers: a family of five, a vacationing couple, and three others traveling alone. The family had two very small children, one of whom waved at Arte as she passed. She waved back, and the child smiled shyly.

A bell clanged somewhere overhead and Bilal appeared on deck, shouting to the passengers that they were about to set sail. The whole Drake rumbled as the turbine powered up and began taking in air, and slowly the craft moved forward. Once they were far enough from the dock the wing-sails were lowered and the ship began to pick up speed; before long, they were sailing along at a swift pace. The sea breeze lifted Arte’s hair and she closed her eyes, enjoying it.

When she returned to the cabin, Arte found Jamil asleep in his bunk, his long legs scrunched up to fit in the small bed. He must have passed out immediately, his pack still in the bed with him. As quietly as possible, Arte opened her bag and rustled up a handful of picnuts to munch on, then slipped out to look for Kit again. This time she found them at the stern of the boat, watching Port Isteel shrinking away in the distance.

“There it goes…” They said softly as she approached as if they had known she was coming. She stood beside them, leaning on the railing.

“Feels surreal, doesn’t it? We’re only a few days away from the Academy.” Even as she said it out loud, Arte could scarcely believe it. The last several days had been a blur of the most bizarre events she had ever faced and now here she was, on a Vorran Drake to Mystibel with two strangers who felt oddly familiar.

“Are you okay, Arte?” Kit asked, not turning their head but pointing their eyes at Arte. She nodded.

“I am, for the most part. I’m still kind of processing everything.”

“I get that. Me, too. I still catch myself thinking I’m gonna wake up any minute now…” There was the faintest mournful tone to their voice, reminding Arte that they were not in their own world. Of course they would yearn for their home. It made her miss her own home, in Vorrah. But before she could say anything Kit was looking at her with their usual cheery expression, the sadness gone and hidden away.

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“Have you seen where Jamil went?” They asked, and Arte nodded, taken slightly aback by the sudden shift in mood.

“Y-yeah, he’s asleep,” she answered, glancing toward the cabin. Kit’s eyes followed hers and they nodded.

“That actually sounds like a really good idea. I think I’m gonna go take a nap, too.” They bid farewell to Arte and headed for the cabin, while Arte decided to continue exploring the ship, restlessness beginning to settle in her bones. The narrow deck felt oppressively cramped and before she could stop herself she was climbing the ridged neck of Seafire Sally. Halfway up before she even realized what she was doing, she committed and scaled the rest of the way up to the top of the head.

There she remained while Mana gave its place to Nocta, the sky darkening slightly, the wind playing in her hair. Up here by herself she could think, and think she did. So much had been learned in such a short time, horrible things that should have rocked her to her very core and left her reeling. Contrarily, she felt more level-headed than ever as she went through it all in her mind.

I’m on a ship to a country I have never been to with someone who is cursed and someone who is a Divine, or rather, sort of a Divine. Leaning back, Arte gazed up at the sky, watching the silvery clouds glide by. Her thoughts went back to Kit, specifically the strange vision they had given her back in the woods. The things she had seen…terrible things…

Arte shuddered as the bone-chilling image of black, soulless eyes seeping oily tears forced itself to the forefront of her mind. Even as the memory of a memory, those eyes seemed to stare at her, filling her with a deep sense of dread. Those eyes foretold destruction and ruin, a promise of pain to come. Looking into them made her sick to her stomach and she tried to push the image away.

Vendic…what an awful name. She had never heard of such an entity. A lord of chaos bent on annihilating everything, hidden away where no one would even think of him? Arte had a very bad feeling about it all.

“Don’t think about it, think about something else,” she told herself, shifting to lie flat on her back, feeling the vibrations from the turbine below her. Her thoughts turned to her new companions. What strange individuals they were. Kit, she liked Kit, even though she thought they were a bit dumb. No, dumb was too harsh; naïve, perhaps. They had a good heart, though, and their stubborn determination was almost admirable. And seeing them miraculously calm the most violent aura Arte had ever seen was no less than, well, miraculous!

This brought her train of thought right to Jamil, and she frowned slightly. Not malevolent, only cursed, and yet she could not shake the bad feeling she got around him. Was it his volatile temper that made her so uneasy? Or was it the knowledge of his curse itself? Whatever it was, Arte didn’t think she could let her guard down if she tried. Not at least until they were safely on dry land in Mystibel.

Part of the conversation she had overheard at the river came to mind then. Jamil sadly telling Kit how people feared and mistreated him because of his curse had left Arte feeling guilty, fearing she had judged him too harshly. Even her own sister, someone she had never known to be cruel to anyone, was unkind toward him. Thinking about it gave Arte a gross feeling in her stomach. Even if Jamil was kind of a rude jerk, he didn’t deserve to be treated like that. No one did.

Movement down on deck caught her eye and Arte peeked over the edge of Sally’s head to see Jamil shuffling toward the bow of the ship. He had put his coat back on and his long hair had escaped its tie, but something about his movements seemed off. Once he was close enough, Arte could see why: he appeared to be sleepwalking.

“Jamil?” She called cautiously, but he didn’t respond, only continued slowly approaching. Instantly unnerved, Arte started to climb down Sally’s neck but something stopped her in her tracks. She could see his face now, and the fear that filled her was so intense she almost lost her grip. He was pale, almost ashen, and his eyes darted wildly behind their half-closed lids. His lips moved in silent conversation, the muscles in his face jerking and twitching. Ready to climb right back up to the top of Sally’s head, Arte tried one more time to talk to him.

“Jamil, are you okay? You look a little, uh, seasick…?” Her whole body seized in one tense shudder as his eyes opened and she saw they were pitch black, the same black eyes from Kit’s vision. The evil ones. Every single alarm bell went off in Arte’s mind and she hurriedly climbed the rest of the way down to the deck. Jamil did not react as she carefully sidestepped past him.

I have to get Kit, she thought, not taking her eyes off Jamil as she continued to walk backwards away from him. Something moved up his back beneath his coat and Arte got the intense urge to run for her life.

“It’s fine…I’ll just…go get Kit, and they’ll fix…whatever this is,” she spoke out loud to reassure herself even as the bad feeling in her gut grew painfully stronger. Her skin was tingling, breaking out in chill-bumps. Jamil turned and was facing Arte now, but his eyes did not see her. He fell to his knees as his skin began to bubble and melt, and she let out a startled scream.

“J-Jamil…? What’s happening…?!” She took a hesitant step forward but a vision straight out of her worst nightmares stopped her. Jamil’s body was hideously contorting, his bones popping and crunching horribly as they tore through his skin like paper. Arte screamed again, staggering back as Jamil’s twisted legs morphed into a giant spiked tail.

“I-I need to get Kit!!” She spun on her heel and made a mad dash for the cabin. The ship dipped suddenly as the weight drastically changed and she almost fell, but she regained her footing. One of the passengers, the father of the family with the little kids, poked his head out of a porthole window and tried to stop Arte as she ran by.

“Hey, wait, what was that?” He asked, but Arte didn’t even stop, only called back over her shoulder:

“Stay inside! It’s too dangerous!” The words had barely left her lips when there was a deafening roar, an anguished and truly haunting sound as the whole ship rocked dangerously as if it had been sideswiped by a massive wave. Looking up in shock, Arte saw a great horned monster rising taller than Sally’s head, and then all hell broke loose on the ship.

~