Captain, Captain.

The birds are all but gone,

The waves are naught but teeth,

Sister Kraken bids us come,

We die,

We die.

Moribund,

Moribund.

A children's rhyme.

The wreckage of the portal room sat silently within the manor. The dust had settled, the winds had calmed, and pale moonlight reflected off what remained of the marble walls. The veneer of calm was shattered in the next moment as a portion of the wreckage pushed outward with a resounding bang. The dislodged stack of debris toppled to the earth, dust billowing from it and rising into the air.

Ellen stepped out, a smile on her face, and took a deep, refreshing breath. Valerina shoved past her roughly and collapsed into a coughing fit as she tried to clear her airways of dust while taking in as much air as she could.

Voscov and Gabriel emerged from within the confines of their erstwhile prison, much more composed but still breathing roughly. Gabriel in particular looked tense and just a tad haunted, like he had survived a very painful, very sudden, very certain death. Which he had, to be fair. The problem, however, wasn't that he'd escaped certain death - he tethered on the edge of the knife on a yearly basis. No, his problem was that he had survived it through sheer luck. And Gabriel did not deal with luck, as things had a propensity to go very wrong whenever his life was involved. The boys sat to the side, watching Ellen smile up at the sky, hands akimbo.

"Ellen, what in Nether's desolate halls is wrong with you?!" Valerina spat in between heavy coughs.

"What?" Ellen asked, raising a brow in genuine consternation.

"We were almost buried alive in there," Valerina hissed. "And just the rebound from your 'air pellets' almost killed me."

"But it didn't, and I handled most of the rebound by myself. Also, none of us were buried alive in the end," Ellen pointed out, her tone displeased.

The space from which they had emerged crumbled inward at this moment, sending thick plumes of dust rolling outward. There was a short, collective silence as the four teens internalised just how close they had come to being crushed beneath thousands of pounds of masonry.

"See?" Ellen prompted, gesturing at the recent collapse and breaking the silence. "We were not buried alive."

Valerina chucked a stone at her but she danced back with a laugh and shot the rest a sheepish grin. Even she recognized that they had only made it out due to dumb luck.

"So, what now?" The princess asked. "We've made it out, but the portal has been destroyed."

There was a brief lull as Valerina and Voscov pondered her words. It was a full minute later before Voscov spoke.

"We would need weapons for one. Our aim now should be to survive as long as possible."

The fact that they would die when the razatches regained their full faculties or became far stronger than they went unsaid.

"So we need weapons," Valerina echoed. "Military grade preferably, I take it. Do you have any idea where we could find a few? To my knowledge Sealarios does not have an armoury or something of the sort."

"Yes, I do," Voscov responded. "However, in as much as the immediate area is devoid of danger, we would need a guide if we are to get there safely."

They turned to look at Gabriel all at once. He registered their attention but waved them off, deciding instead to continue to ponder with a tense face.

Valerina poked him in the side. "What's wrong?"

Gabriel glanced at her and raised a hand to caress the side of his face.

"The rocks," he said. "They missed me by millimetres. Millimetres. They all but fell on me." He ran a hand over his face. "I need some time alone."

...

It took a while for Gabriel to come around. The others laughed at him - Valerina and Ellen mainly, but even Voscov's ever indifferent gaze seemed judgemental to the golden haired prince.

Something about the way absolutely nothing had phased Gabriel while they were all mired in doubt and anxiety all through the night, only for him to need a break when confronted so indirectly with death was extremely funny. It humanised him; made him seem more like a mortal with mortal concerns and less like a walking, talking engine of momentum and action.

Gabriel, however, felt that their mockery was unfair. In as much as he was very much acquainted with fighting for his life yearly, he prepared extensively for it. He had learnt never to rely purely on luck; not to forget that Ellen's actions were just so sudden and he had no idea if she would be able to push past the blockade before the metal lance gave way. Suffice it to say, at the point in time, all of Gabriel's plans had been swept aside and everything looked horribly bleak. It was less about the stones that had almost fallen upon him and more that he could not believe he survived the situation at all.

When, eventually, he came around, they all departed for the courtyard Voscov had been assigned. While the area was not devoid of razatches, they were able to steer clear of the few that lingered, making it to the courtyard in peace.

The first obstacle they were unable to easily overcome when they arrived was the door to Lynica's room. It was locked and as they were wholly unwilling to cause a ruckus by breaking it down, they milled about before the door discontentedly. They had found a keyring hung above the gate, but Voscov had quickly informed them that Lynica had removed the key to her room from the bunch.

At that point Valerina stepped up, trying the keys in the ring for size. Several of them were unable to fit, and her face lit up in delight when one finally did. Then with a little wiggle and a jiggle the padlock popped open.

They all trudged in, scanning the room warily as they did.

"Where are the weapons?" Gabriel asked Voscov.

The taciturn prince paid him no mind and instead headed for the closet. He pulled out Lynica's bag from it and dropped it on the bed. Everyone gathered round the bed and Voscov undid a few buttons and spread the bag wide open, allowing more than half a dozen daggers to meet the air.

"Damn," Ellen intoned, whistling at the sight. "That is a lot of knives. Don't tell me she anticipated this."

"No," Voscov responded. "Lynica has just always been paranoid."

"How did she even sneak these in? I am certain our belongings were searched for weapons when we arrived."

"They did not bother to check for secret compartments, I wager. They did not think anyone would break their rules and so got complacent," Gabriel mused.

"Indeed," Voscov affirmed. "That aside, where to now?"

"The main house," Valerina blurted instantly. The other three gave her questioning looks and she shrugged. "I am hungry, and they do have a well-stocked kitchen last time I checked. It is also as good a place as any."

...

An hour plus later Valerina collapsed on her back, allowing herself to be held by the fluffy heaven the bed provided. She was on the first floor of the main house, within one of the many guest rooms that dotted the structure. The room's windows were boarded up as were those all about the house, fused to the wooden frames all about them courtesy of Gabriel's manipulation.

Ellen pushed open the door and jumped onto the bed too, releasing a tired sigh as fatigue washed over her in waves. While they had all taken different rooms, Valerina had invited the Maeser over to sleep in hers, knowing that she would not be able to sleep alone. By Nether, even with someone in the same room, Valerina still wasn't brave enough to go to sleep. They were in the very middle of a razatche's nest for realmsake and that fact alone, bar the nightmares that were sure to come, was reason enough to stay awake through the night.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

"Want something to eat?" Ellen asked.

"Too tired," Valerina groaned even while hunger bit at her. But her stomach could wait. She had been running about the whole day and now she had a place to rest with little worry, she was loathe to move.

"Fair enough," Ellen breathed and Valerina wondered how she still had the strength to speak.

Ellen kicked off the sandals she'd been given at the Candor residence and poked Valerina in the side to do the same. Valerina groaned something unintelligible, waving a hand dismissively. Ellen nudged her harder but the girl simply waddled her feet in the air impotently, groaning in displeasure.

"Take off your damn shoes!" Ellen scolded, rapping her knuckles against Valerina's head.

The brunette gave her a baleful glare before lethargically kicking off her shoes and scuttling to one side of the bed. Ellen lay down as well and Valerina rolled over to her, staying close enough that their backs were touching. The princess didn't push her away like she feared, instead giving her a light pat and pulling the covers over the both of them.

"Goodnight Val," she murmured.

"Goodnight," Valerina replied. It didn't matter that dawn might have well been minutes away.

Despite her fears, she was out like a light as soon as her eyes fell shut, weariness dragging her consciousness deep into sleep in but a moment. Her rest was fitful and plagued by constant nightmares, and more than once she found herself rising to semi-consciousness, driven by a need to escape her dreams and feel for Ellen to make certain that she was not alone.

But she never did truly rise until three or so hours later when the pallid eyes of the dead, the innumerable entrails, and the descending ceiling of the portal room blended seamlessly with flames - the terribly fearful ones that only had any bearing in nightmares, turning the corpses crisp and black, licked ravenously at her within the confines of the portal room's wreckage while she wailed and cried futilely. Her nightgown was burning, thick cloying smoke rising from it and blockading her nostrils while her essence streamed out from a large cut running up her arm. She cried and screamed, trying to move, but there was only so much a twelve year old could do.

At that point she awoke with a choked scream, kicking about indiscriminately in a bid to get the flames off her. Someone called out to her but she continued to scream, tossing and turning, trying to rip the bed to shreds with her nails.

"Valerina!" Ellen screamed, snagging the girl's wrists and pinning them down with a hand. She yanked her forward, wrapping a second arm around her shoulders and cradling the girl in the crook of her shoulder. "It's alright, it's alright. Come on, I'm here. It's alright, you're safe Val. Everything is alright."

Valerina's screams devolved into scared whimpers, her eyes shut tight as she trembled fiercely. Ellen stroked her hair, whispering sweet nothings at her, and she gradually calmed, her whimpers morphing into a short-lived sob.

"Where the hell is Ramla when you need him?" She murmured resentfully as she began to nod off once again while cradled in Ellen's arms.

The princess sighed softly, glancing up at the dark ceiling while she held Valerina. Truth be told she expected to be doing this for Camilla - after giving her a sleeping pill - but it wasn't so bad to be there for Valerina either. Camilla would manage somehow.

She pressed her chin over Valerina's head, rocking subtly, and before she knew it a children's rhyme wormed its way through her lips. It was a silly song about a captain and his crew lost at sea and she did not quite know the lyrics so she sang the parts she knew and hummed the ones she didn't.

Eventually, Valerina's breathing evened out and soon they two girls fell asleep, both equally exhausted.

...

Ellen awoke, her throat parched. Lances of sunlight stabbed into her eyes and she squinted in displeasure at the narrow gaps in the window. Daylight. How wonderful.

She rolled off the bed and stumbled out of the room, anxious to get some water down her throat and get back to sleep. She found her way to the kitchen, nudged the door open, and froze. Valerina was bustling about the room, clad in a black servant's garb a tad too large, and fretting over a boiling pot of water and a line of ingredients.

"What are you doing?" Ellen blurted, her parched throat making her voice raspy.

Valerina turned and shot her a smile.

"Cooking," the girl replied, awkwardly breaking open an egg with a cleaver and spilling the yolk into a pan.

"Cooking?" Ellen echoed, disturbed. That was not how you used a cleaver...

"Yes. Gabriel has no idea how to do so, and Voscov is yet to wake, so I thought I might as well."

"You're not even wearing an apron."

"Apron? Why would I wear that while cooking?" Valerina queried, looking genuinely confounded. "Aprons are for when cleaning are they not?"

"Of course n-" Ellen cut herself off, closed her eyes and breathed. It was too early to deal with things like this.

"Do as you wish," the princess said, stepping along the wall to bury her face in the first barrel of water she came across. She gulped down water greedily until she was satisfied then pulled herself up, running a hand over her face to push back strands of hair that fell into her face.

She gave a satisfied sigh and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Valerina to her business. Much like Gabriel she didn't know the first thing about cooking. She held no hope in Valerina, but how bad could it be? It was just cooking. There was a limit to how much that could be mishandled.

Satisfied that she would be getting breakfast by the time she would awake, Ellen went back to sleep.

...

Ellen swirled the watery brownish-black sludge that Valerina insisted was soup. She hummed and glanced to the side at the serving of potato slices coated in a black sheen, squinting at it. The spices seemed to have burnt somehow. And the potatoes themselves looked strange. Like they were coated in burnt oil. Does oil leave ashes?

She raised her head and glanced round the table. None of the others had dug in yet.

"Is this edible?" Voscov asked, stabbing at the slurry of beans before him.

"Perfectly so," Valerina chirped. "I think."

Gabriel clearly did not believe so. He prodded at the potatoes with a dubious expression.

"These don't look quite right," he said.

"You think you can do better?" Valerina snapped at him. "It looks weird but it's alright." She inspected her bowl of soup closely, her expression doubtful.

Ellen would bet she didn't believe her words either. Her eyes strayed to the somewhat large bowl of honeyed carrot Valerina had placed in the middle of the table. The slices were not perfect like she was used to, but with the topping of honey, the carrots glistened underneath the warm crystal light. She ran a tongue across her lower lips instinctively.

"No, no, not yet," Valerina cautioned, wagging a finger before Ellen's nose. "That is for later."

Ellen nodded understandingly and suggested they began eating. They other three exchanged glances, and eventually their gazes settled on Ellen. They didn't move a muscle and she quickly intuited what they desired.

She sighed and looked down at the soup before her, stirring it lightly and giving herself time to gather her courage.

It's just food, she thought. There is a limit to how bad it can be.

She thrust a spoonful into her mouth, pouring it down her throat, and a boderline nauseating flavor quickly spread through her mouth but was quickly overshadowed by fire.

"How is it?" Voscov prompted.

Ellen smiled and held up a thumb even as her mouth burned and she felt like tears would be falling out of her eyes any second. "Could be better but it is alright."

The rest let out relieved sighs and quickly dug in. With an uncanny synchronicity they all paused for just a fragment of a second before collectively spitting the soup to the side, cursing as they did so.

Ellen laughed at them while they hurriedly downed cups of water, feeling like the spice in the food was suddenly more bearable.

"So the soup is a foregone affair," Valerina said, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "Who's tasting the potatoes?"

The table fell silent as everyone stared at her. Valerina rolled her eyes and carefully nibbled on a slice of potato. She seemed to chew in contemplation for a moment before spitting out to the side too.

"I think it's undercooked," she said with distaste.

Gabriel and Voscov glanced at each other and both pushed away the serving of what Valerina had introduced as beans porridge.

"No, you both can't shirk the responsibility to taste test," Valerina protested, pointing an accusing finger at the two boys.

"I was not planning to," Gabriel assured her, reaching for the honeyed carrot. Valerina slapped away his hand and hers dove for a slice of said carrot. Ellen's hand smacked her wrist away, pushed off Gabriel's returning digits, and when she went for the carrots was pushed away by Gabriel's second hand. They glared at each other and both their hands clamped down on Valerina's intruding wrist without looking. Gabriel dove for the carrots with a fork, Ellen parried it with a spoon, and Valerina used the opportunity to pick up a table knife. She was attacked before she could use it, Ellen and Gabriel ganging up on her and prodding at her knuckles with their respective cutlery until she dropped the knife with a pained hiss.

"Would you stop behaving like a bunch of hillbillies?" Voscov drolled.

The trio glanced at him and for a moment all three were confused. What was he holding?

They looked between them and found the bowl of carrots missing. Glancing back up at Voscov, they confirmed that, yes, Voscov was with the carrots.

Gabriel stabbed at the bowl with his fork but Voscov maneuvered it out of reach.

"Winner takes all," he stated drily.

"You're injured," Valerina stated sweetly, stretching out a hand. "Get it here let me feed you."

"I am able to eat, thank you."

Valerina's features soured and Voscov raised a slice to his mouth. He watched with a simpering sort of satisfaction as their eyes tracked the carrot to his lips. Then the taste hit and the satisfaction petered out.

"However," the prince pondered as he chewed. "Generosity is a virtue and it behooves me to share." He placed the plate back onto the table and the other three snatched slices for themselves impatiently. The simpering satisfaction returned when they spat it out despondently.

"This is unforgivable," Ellen groused, staring up at the ceiling in frustration, tears hanging at the corner of her eyes. "You should be hanged for this atrocity, Valerina!"

"I'm hungry," Valerina whined in reply.

The clinking of cutlery pulled their attention and they all looked to find Gabriel scarfing down the beans speedily. The bowl of soup lay at his elbow, empty, and if the tears threatening to fall from his eyes were any indication, he had drank the whole thing.

He moved quickly from the beans to the potatoes, swallowing the slices, doing only the bare minimum in regards to chewing. After that he served himself some of the carrot and wolfed it down, again not letting it linger in his mouth.

"Ladies, gentlemen, thank you for the meal," he said, wiping his mouth quickly with a napkin and pushing away from the table. "Just don't let food touch your tongue and you'd be alright for the most part. I remember seeing a barrel of fine wine in the kitchen so I would be headed there if you don't mind." He stood and strode out of the dining hall, trying not to think of the abominations he had just consumed.

Ellen and Valerina looked down at their plates, their faces green. They were all terribly hungry. It was a foregone conclusion.