They left around midday after another round of promises and half-joking threats. Tara had a hard time just getting on the ship.

She could recall that childhood—or the end of that childhood, at least—more than she could her own. She didn’t fully consider herself to be the same girl who died on a ship, but that girl’s memories still haunted her. For once, she would have preferred it if Itzun decided to talk to her.

Just by comparing the memories with her current experience, logically steel would be harder to sink than wood. There wasn’t anything for her to actually be scared of, but it had close to the same effect on her as rain did.

Tara expected the reaction, of course, but the fear frustrated her. For the time being, at least, she was safer than that girl was; she couldn’t tell if she envied that girl’s carefree childhood, or hated her for making Tara’s life a bit more difficult.

The ship left Dakari not long after everyone boarded it; Matteo stayed on the deck to watch the sailors work and ask questions, but Tara went below. Hannah helpfully showed her to an empty room, likely noticing Tara’s unfounded fears but not commenting on them. She left Tara alone to do whatever she wanted—which, in this case, meant drawing.

It didn’t help her fears at all. She still drew what she normally did—that older ship, the family of the girl who agreed to this—and it didn’t lessen anything. She knew it was nothing more than just…anxiety; how something happened once, so she braced herself for it to happen again. Understanding the reason didn’t do much.

Tara stayed below deck for about an hour, then went above to see if that did anything; unfortunately, while being able to see more sunlight did help—at least with the fear of them running into a storm—the amount of people brought on a different fear. She didn’t feel entirely comfortable being around so many others, even if they weren’t doing much but chatting amongst themselves.

She repeated the process a few times, taking up a better portion of the afternoon. Eventually, the setting sun provided less light and, as a consequence, gave her more fears. She fully believed that Itzun would have spoken to her by now if he didn’t find this entertaining in some way, which itself wasn’t earning him any favors either.

She gathered up her sketchbook and some colored pencils so she could color in a few pieces she had already sketched out. She opened the door leading to the deck and squeaked a bit when she saw Hannah standing right next to it.

“Hey, kid,” she said. Tara murmured some quiet acknowledgment, but couldn’t manage much else; she still needed familiar face’s support to speak with strangers. “Can you stop pacing around? Your anxiety’s rubbing off on the crew—I try to keep things light.”

It sounded harsh, but Hannah didn’t seem to mean anything harmful by it. Tara nodded.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“…Sorry.”

The answer satisfied Hannah, who took a few steps back to maintain a respectful distance. She put on a slightly more friendly look.

“Anyway, we’re eating soon—why don’t you go wait with your brother?”

She gestured in one particular direction; Tara could tell where Matteo was simply because he stood out among the primarily-Sólstaðuric crew. She gave some quiet thanks and went over to greet him.

Matteo’s immediate response to Tara was to give a little smile. She wouldn’t be surprised if he knew she was worried and tried his best to imitate how Adelinde and Rene usually calmed her.

“You have emerged!” he said jokingly, still smiling. A bit less cheerful but still kind, he asked, “You doing okay so far?”

“I guess,” Tara murmured.

Instead of joining him by the edge of the ship, she sat down a ways away from the railing. She tried to focus on coloring her drawings instead of the water around her; Matteo must have noticed the effort she put into it, and didn’t say anything either to avoid breaking her concentration or because he didn’t have anything else to do but talk about things that would bother her.

Come a few more minutes, and Hannah came over with two plates holding simple meals. She offered one to Matteo and one to Tara.

“It’s not anything fancy,” Hannah said, “But here’s dinner.”

Matteo accepted his with almost no hesitance. “Thank you.”

Tara murmured something along the same sentiment and sat aside her drawing materials so she could take the meal.

“Mind if I come back to eat with you?” Hannah asked nicely. “It’d be nice to hear what Ren”—after a second she added the missing syllable, then in the next she fully corrected herself—“Rene’s been up to. Plus, if you have any questions I might be able to answer them.”

“I wouldn’t pass up a conversation partner,” Matteo replied.

He looked at Tara for her consent, and she could only really manage a shrug; both him and Hannah took that as a ‘yes,’ evidenced by Hannah’s somewhat-thankful smile before she left. Tara started eating while she was gone, still trying to focus on anything but the sea.

Hannah returned by the time Tara was half finished, taking a spot on the deck in between Tara and Matteo’s spots. Most of the other crew members were the same, despite there likely being enough room below deck for them to be somewhere more comfortable.

“First things first,” Hannah said, looking at Tara. “Why did you keep pacing? Never been on a ship?”

Tara shook her head, but struggled to actually form a verbal response. She cast a glance at Matteo in hopes he could explain, and fortunately he understood.

“Kind of? Before Adelinde and Rene adopted her,” he said. A bit more cautiously—he was trying not to bother her, she realized—he continued, “Her parents died in a storm at sea a while back.”

Hannah caught on fairly quickly, giving an almost apologetic look to Tara.

“That’s unfortunate.” She put on a reassuring smile instead, patting the deck next to her. “But I promise, I’ve sailed this girl into sailor’s hell three or four times and back. Sólstaðuric ships are built to sustain pretty much anything—storms, ice, and the fancier ones can even take a cannon hit or five before even getting dented—so it’s very unlikely that anything would happen. At worst, the engine stops working for an hour or two.”

Tara nodded to show understanding and some kind of gratefulness. It didn’t allay every concern, but it helped to hear someone who—based on Rene’s stories, at least—knew what they were talking about and understood the situation better than she did.

The conversation shifted to be just Matteo and Hannah—he had some traveling questions and she seemed more than happy to answer. Tara didn’t mind; it gave her something else to think on when she finished eating and continued drawing, letting her focus on something other than her fears for a little bit.