Chapter Thirty-Seven

Raimie, Rhylix

Raimie

When I woke up to darkness with the comforting noises of maritime life all around, I wondered if I’d dreamed about the battle. How else could I be alive? The last thing I remembered was a giant with a mace preparing to swing at me, but if that had been a dream…

Unsteadily, I made my way to my cabin’s door, wincing at a rush of light when I opened it, and stopped short when I saw the soldier leaning against the bulkhead opposite me. Snapping to attention, the man might have mumbled two hated words, but I’d heard them in such a jumbled manner that I chose to ignore them. Glancing down the passageway, I frowned at him.

“Do you need something from me?” I said.

With a confused expression in place, the soldier said, “You… said to give you a message when you woke up.”

Interesting. I didn’t remember doing that.

“What’s the message?” I asked.

Stiffening to attention, the soldier said, “Apologies. I had to improvise a bit.”

When he fell silent, I wrinkled my nose, replaying the words for something understandable, but I came up empty.

“What’s that supposed to mean, do you think?” I asked.

“I’m sure I don’t know, Your Majesty,” the soldier said. “You did say something about a concussion before you retired, though.”

A concussion? That could explain why I couldn’t remember the final part of the battle, which seemed to have actually happened. I should find out what had happened during the time I was missing, but first.

“Alouin, it’s spreading,” I groaned. “First, Marcuset and Oswin, and now, a random soldier. Oh. No offense meant.”

“None taken,” the soldier said. “I’d rather not have my name remembered. You important people tend to have miserable lives. Your Majesty.”

“The last few months have been… interesting,” I mused before shaking myself. “But there it is again! Why are you calling me that? I’ve made it clear that I don’t like it.”

Wordlessly, the soldier examined me, intently enough that I wondered what he was thinking. Frowning, he started and stopped speaking before cocking his head.

“May I be frank with you?” he asked.

“I thought that’s what you were doing,” I said with a smirk.

“Fair enough,” the soldier said. “When we soldiers call you ‘Your Majesty’, it’s our way of showing our support, both to you and to others. Doing this when at home is important for many reasons, of course. What’s essential right now, though, is that when we honor you, outsiders see that you have your army’s devotion, which honestly, is all the Audish royal family has to its name right now. Knowing you have our loyalty will give you a stronger place at the negotiation table, among other things, and you’ll need that if you want to advance your cause. Unless you think we should take Auden through violence alone?”

“No. I’d rather avoid violence if possible,” I said.

Much as I hated to admit it, I could see the logic behind this soldier’s words. I’d read similar arguments in books about how a leader could earn their legitimacy, but that made it no less palatable.

“Of course,” the soldier said with a nod. “Now, if I may, I’d make a suggestion, since that honorific obviously makes you uncomfortable.”

“Please,” I said, waving for him to continue.

“When you’re in public, people will call you ‘Your Majesty’ or any other title they believe you deserve. There’s no getting around it,” the soldier said, “but among those of us who participate in your daily life, you could ask that we drop the formal means of address. I doubt you could get us to abandon all forms of respect, but if you like, you could let it be known that unless something more formal is required, you’d rather have us refer to you with familiarity. Say, with something like ‘Your Honor’ or, if you don’t mind how crude some people would see it, ‘sir’, like we do in the military.”

Smiling, I crossed my arms while leaning on the doorway.

“You know, random soldier, you’re very wise,” I said. “Are you sure you won’t give me your name? I could see that you’re promoted, and if you were, you’d get better rations, among other luxuries.”

As the soldier grew increasingly still and uncomfortable, I watched with my smile widening until he tried to speak, choking on his reply. Then, I laughed, waving for him to relax.

“I’m sorry. Oh, g- Alouin. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t help myself,” I gasped. “Please, forgive me. I… hell. Here you are, being genuine with me and I’m…”

Biting my lip, I looked away. What had I been thinking?

“You’re coming down off of an extremely stressful few hours, and you’re injured to boot,” the soldier said. “It’s ok, Your Majesty. Trust me. Soldiers understand the need to laugh better than most.”

Slowly, I looked the other man up and down, noting his callouses and scars and the worn look of his sword.

“Yes, I suppose you would,” I said before straightening. “I’ll take your suggestion. If you would, please let it be known that if possible, I’d like all honorifics dropped among my soldiers. I’d rather have you call me by name, but if you must use a term of respect, you may address me as ‘sir’.”

With a salute, the soldier said, “Yes, sir! I can spread the news right away, if you like.”

“Please, do so,” I said.

After bowing, of all things, the soldier ran off to follow his ‘orders’, but before he could disappear, I pulled him up short.

“One more thing,” I called. “Since we left Daira, the soldiers from Ada’ir have acted aloof with me, and yet now, you call me ‘Your Majesty’. I know that you’re one among many, and your thoughts may differ from your compatriots, but I was hoping you could tell me what’s changed.”

Turning to face me, the soldier cocked his head.

“We’ve been distant because we were watching you, sir. We may be loyal to Auden, but we weren’t sure if you were the best solution for its troubles,” he said. “Then, the battle happened. You acted as a good king should today. Leading the charge, fighting with us instead of standing on the sidelines, making hard choices as the situation required. These are the markings of the leader that every common soldier dreams of following, and we will honor you for them.”

When he bowed again, I was struck speechless, left gaping as he rose. He must have found this amusing since he grinned at me.

“You should go back to bed, sir,” he said. “Concussions are no joke. You’ll need plenty of rest over the next few weeks.”

Snapping my mouth shut, I nodded before twirling into my cabin.

I was curious who’d decided I had a concussion, whether Rhylix or not, because I felt perfectly fine. Right now, the only thing that concerned me was my loss of memory. If the battle had concluded while I’d been ‘unconscious’, the time I’d lost must have been long.

And from several things the soldier had said, I’d been active during that span of time. Why couldn’t I remember it?

Shaking my head, I collapsed into my bunk. I should figure out what had happened and soon, but first, I’d take care of my body on the off chance that my diagnosis was right. After making myself comfortable, I drifted off.

No panic greeted me as I entered my nightmare realm today. Hanging from Nylion’s shoulders, I didn’t move, content to keep my face pressed into his back. With nothing life-threatening facing me in the real world, I could take the time to appreciate how wonderful my reunion with him had been. It might seem strange, but being with him had been…

It had been everything. I didn’t know how else to describe it. Gods, if death hadn’t been hovering over me when last I’d been here, I’d have stayed in this place. I’d have stayed with Nylion and his warmth that was just right, his smell that spread comfort with every breath, his body that begged me to fold myself around it.

Or perhaps it was the other way around.

I’d missed this, the sense of safety and- and home that I’d always found with Nylion. I’d missed feeling…

Whole.

Here, with someone I’d made up as a child, the gaping void at my core, the one that had always plagued me, was filled. What. the. fuck?

“Raimie? Are you awake?”

Jerking my head back, I sucked down air while skittering my eyes over my surroundings again. Well from the worst moment of my childhood. Unnerving black substance covering its surfaces. The well’s lip overhead, closer than when I’d last been here. Nylion.

Nylion.

What the godsdamn hell had I been doing, snuggling into the other man?

With a long sigh, Nylion said, “Yup. Awake.”

When he released the bond around my wrists, I scrambled to get free, gritting my teeth as a hook reached deep inside of me and yanked something out. I hadn’t felt that. It hadn’t happened!

“Is something wrong?” Nylion asked.

I jerked my head toward my friend to snap at him, but for some reason, seeing that hood dried my mouth out.

Clearing my throat, I said, “A concussion? Really? That was the best you could do?”

With a huff, Nylion faced the wall before resuming his climb.

“What would you rather I have said?” he asked. “‘Hello, Rhylix! My name is Nylion, not Raimie, and despite what you might think, you are not Raimie’s best friend. I am. Also, I am only an imagining in his head’?”

I would argue the best friend part, but mentioning that now didn’t seem wise.

“Yeah, that wouldn’t have gone over well,” I said. “Also, have you been rehearsing that?”

Ducking his hood, Nylion mumbled, “Maybe.”

And I laughed. I wasn’t sure why I’d had such a strange reaction to Nylion today, but exchanges like this were more what I expected from our relationship.

“Is my desire to make a good impression on your friend really so funny?” Nylion asked.

With my laughter petering out, I released one of my holds on the wall to wipe my eyes.

“No, it’s understandable,” I said. “I’m sorry. I’ve just missed…”

And there it was again. Excessive sentimentality for, as Nylion had put it, an imagining in my head.

“I have missed you too.”

A choked sound was ripped from me as I nearly lost my grip on the wall. What…? WHAT?

Sighing, Nylion shook his hood.

“Never mind,” he says. “Come on, slowpoke. Get to climbing, or I will reach the top before you.”

For a moment, I considered rejecting this provided distraction. I should talk to Nylion about the host of strange things that occurred when we were around one another but...

Next time.

“Yeah, you wish,” I said, picking up the pace. “I’ve always been the better climber of us. How many times have you fallen when you had a perfect handhold waiting for you?”

As Nylion sputtered, I grinned. Just like old times and I supposed that when it came to things like this, I had missed my friend.

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Two days after the battle, I was leaning against the main mast with an open book held in my lap. I’d been trying to read it for a while now, but no matter how hard I tried, that wasn’t happening. Every time I set my eyes on its pages, I got two paragraphs in before I was listening to Marcuset give his report about the battle again.

I wasn’t sure what to think about what I’d heard. Wantonly killing people and ordering the surviving enemies executed? That didn’t sound like me, but multiple people had confirmed it, even my father when I’d run to him on hearing the news.

Groaning, I set the book into the unread pile beside me before rubbing my face, and when I pulled away, I stared at my open palms.

They looked the same. Shouldn’t the hands of a mass murderer look different in some way?

“May I join you, sir?”

Jumping, I dropped my hands in my lap, hiding them, before looking up.

“Captain Oswin,” I said.

It was amazing how much relief this man brought with him, considering how short of a time we’d known one another.

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” I said, waving around me.

Nodding, Oswin folded to the ground, setting a cloth-wrapped bundle at his side.

Once he looked settled, I asked, “How can I help you, captain?”

With his lips twitching, Oswin clasped his hands in front of him.

“Forgive me, sir, but you look like you could use some help,” he said. “May I try my hand at it?”

Blinking, I blankly said, “At helping me?”

Was that… possible? Since leaving home, I’d gotten used to assisting others while maintaining an aura of strength, and in a way, it had helped me forget that others could provide me with support. Sure, Rhylix had gone out of his way to help me before, but Rhylix was… Rhylix. For some reason, the rules had never applied to him.

“Yes, sir,” Oswin said. “I’d like to help. If you’ll let me.”

“Be my guest,” I said, “although I’m not sure why you think I need it.”

“I’ll get to that.”

Transferring his bundle into his lap, Oswin started unwrapping it.

“When I was younger, I had a friend, a kid you remind me of. He was as bright-eyed as you, just as giving and unpredictable. I couldn’t tell you how many times he made an out-of-the-blue change in plans that left me reeling,” Oswin said with a soft laugh. “He was also devastated when forced to do something he considered wrong.”

Ah. That was what the captain wanted to help with.

“Sounds like my kind of guy,” I said.

Snorting, Oswin smiled at me.

“Yes, you’d have liked him,” he said. “In any case, when these moments of guilt happened to my friend, he’d ask if he could test my inventions for me. I like tinkering in my spare time, you see, and after he asked, we’d usually spend the day doing just that. I thought… I thought you might like to try it.”

Finished unwrapping the bundle, Oswin offered me its contents, and I frowned at the revealed hollow tube.

“I saw these in Daira. Powerful stuff,” I said, lifting the tube free. “What’s it called?”

“It’s a pistol,” Oswin said. “I based the design on something that came through the capital’s tear and- Don’t point that end at someone unless you mean to kill them.”

Blushing, I lowered the pistol.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I wasn’t…”

“Don’t worry. I handed it to you unloaded for a reason,” Oswin said with a grin. “Shall I show you how to hold it properly?”

“Please.”

A lesson commenced where I learned how to safely handle this new weapon. Oswin showed me how to load it while explaining its deficiencies: how much it misfired as well as its uselessness when damp. It was a lot of safety talk and warm-up, more than I’d gotten with other weapons, but then, Oswin had me fire it over the sea’s open water, and I was glad for the instruction.

“Hell, this thing packs a punch,” I said, shaking out my arm.

“That it does,” Oswin said. “I understand if it’s not for you-”

“Are you kidding? That was amazing!” I said. “Let’s do it again.”

For a moment, Oswin just looked at me with something incredibly sad in his eyes, but then, he blinked, and it was gone.

“Of course, sir,” he said. “It would be my pleasure.”

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Later, when I tried giving the pistol back, Oswin insisted that I keep it, and standing at the far aft railing, we looked out over the fleet.

“Thank you,” I said. “You were right. I needed that.”

“Happy to have helped,” Oswin said.

From the corner of my eye, I watched him, surprised at how happy I was to see him content. Why, for the love of Alouin, was he so familiar to me?

Why did it matter?

Leaning against the railing, I said, “May I ask you something?”

“Please,” Oswin said, “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

With a nod, I said, “The friend you mentioned before. What happened to him? The way you put it, I’d guess that he isn’t in your life anymore.”

Oswin’s face closed off, and although he moved not a muscle, I could have sworn he’d stiffened.

“He moved on to bigger and better things,” he said before bowing to me. “If you’ll excuse me, sir, I have duties to attend to.”

Hell. I’d upset him.

Internally wincing, I said, “Then, you should get to them. Thanks for this.”

I raised the pistol into view, and Oswin smiled, which loosened the air of tension around him.

“You’re quite welcome,” he said. “Come find me if you ever want to practice with your aim.”

With a chuckle, I said, “I will.”

Watching the captain trot off, I tucked the pistol into my belt beside Silverblade, fully aware that I should find a better spot for it later. I didn’t know what to think of Oswin or what had happened over the last few hours, but one thing was certain.

“That was interesting,” I said to myself.

No other noteworthy events occurred for several days, and during this period of calm, I caught up on my studies. Eledis had taken over as my tutor, working with me on his areas of expertise: negotiations and economics.

He wasn’t a good teacher.

When with him, I’d learned to only ask questions when they were needed. Otherwise, I looked for answers in my books, therefore avoiding Eledis’ frustration.

Once or twice, I tried to hold casual conversations with the ship’s crew, but the formality and deference that they maintained around me didn’t make that possible. Soon enough, I resigned myself to staying out of their way.

Even if they’d been friendly toward me, however, I might have avoided them. I quickly lost track of how many times they told me I should be resting, something that only increased in frequency when I resumed work on my weapon drills.

Normally, I’d heed these admonishments, strictly following my healer’s order, but…

I wasn’t sure if the concussion diagnosis was correct. If Rhylix were here, I’d consult with him about it, but he’d been stuck on another ship while the fleet had taken advantage of the wind. So far as I could tell, though, the only indication of my concussion was my memory loss.

And didn’t I just bless and curse the fact that I couldn’t remember the battle’s ending? On the one hand, if I did remember, the guilt I already felt would be worse.

On the other hand, I didn’t remember. Not only was that by itself worrying, but I’d had to rely on other people’s stories to know what had happened to me.

A week or so after we’d left the Accession Tear behind, I woke up to the bustle of increased activity above deck, which was annoying. I’d been sent here for enforced rest, and now, the ones who’d wanted that from me were making way too much noise.

There must be a reason for it.

Once I was under an open sky, I marveled at the hecticness found here. More was going on now than when we’d been sailing through the Tear’s storms, and I still had no idea of anything’s purpose. Maybe I’d once more resume my pastime of blindly following sailors’ shouted instructions, but first, I should figure out what was going on.

After wandering for a bit, avoiding harried sailors as I did, I found Marcuset on the ship’s forecastle. As I approached, he was staring into the distance with a distinctly not-Marcuset look on his face, but when he turned on me, that odd combination of nostalgia and dread was wiped away.

“Sorry to wake you, Your Majesty, but someone spotted land not long ago,” he said. “We thought it best to approach quickly, considering how easily we’d be spotted here.”

My step faltered until I’d come to a stop.

“Land?” I asked with a dry mouth.

Nodding, Marcuset threw a hand toward the horizon.

“Come and see.”

Gods, I’d rather not. I’d rather pretend I hadn’t heard Marcuset, returning to my cabin so I could hide, but instead, I let my somehow sure feet take me to the railing, accepting a spyglass when it was offered.

“There,” Marcuset said, pointing.

When looking where indicated, I saw a dark protrusion bulging out of the water, one that stretched to either side for quite a distance. Lowering the spyglass, I leaned on the railing, hoping I wasn’t putting too much pressure on it.

Licking my lips, I asked, “Auden?”

“So we believe,” Marcuset said. “Soon, we’ll be on land, and you’ll be in your rightful kingdom.”

Oh, hell. I’d be sick. We were here, at our appointed destination, and I wasn’t ready.

Since leaving home, in all of my ignorance, how had I changed? I had, what? A passing ability to fight? The barest of control on my primeancy? And I’d only scratched the surface of what I should know if I did end up ruling this damn kingdom.

“How… nice,” I said, fighting to keep my voice even.

“Once we weigh anchor, we’ll need to quickly survey the surrounding territory. We should establish a base of operations first thing,” Marcuse said. “Alouin help us if hostiles run across us before we’re prepared for them.”

That was right. The reason we’d come here was to liberate this place, and what would that be if not a war? How long would I live with only violence and the struggle to survive as companions?

Gone would be the lazy days of studying. Gone would be the carefree conversations with my father and the soldiers’ random gestures of kindness. My life would become one of misery and death and…

With my elbows on the railing, I tangled my fingers in my hair, creating a dull pulse behind my eyes.

“I’m not ready,” I said.

These people were relying on me for something I couldn’t give them. Since I’d accepted that most people would take the foretelling about me seriously, this had been a nagging worry at the back of my mind, but here, with Auden in the distance, I had to face it, and the fear that I’d fail them drove straight to the heart of me. It became a burn in my head, and I pressed harder on my skull, wanting to reach inside so I could pluck the horrid thing out.

“Hell,” Marcuset said. “Sometimes, I forget how young and sheltered you are.”

Why did this sensation feel so familiar? I could swear I’d experienced such gibbering panic and aching pain before, but when? Surely, I’d remember something like…

Sitting outside my family’s cottage, unable to move, while a horror had borne down on me.

Fuck.

Jerking upright, I spun to scan the ship. The figures who’d protected me back then weren’t here this time, so for the first time in a week, I called on them.

Bright. Dim. I need you right now.

The splinters popped into being nearby, looking disgruntled.

“Finally,” Dim said. “I wasn’t sure how much longer I could-OHSHIT.”

Bright had shrunk on themselves, and ignoring them, Dim glanced about with a panicked glaze in their eyes, sniffing at the air.

Is it him? I asked.

“What the hell do you think?” Dim snapped.

That both of you need to calm-

“Is something wrong?” Marcuset asked.

He was watching me with pinched eyes, probably because of my tense bearing, so slowly, I relaxed, pinning an easy grin into place.

“Just looking for Eledis,” I said. “I’m sure he’s eager to see this land, considering how much he’s obsessed over it for his whole life, and once he’s done gawking, we can discuss our plans.”

Before returning to my scan of the ship and its crew, I caught the furrow between Marcuset’s eyebrows deepening.

“That’s not a bad idea,” he said. “Your Majesty…”

But I was no longer listening.

Suggestions? I said.

“Besides running, obviously?” Bright said. “Much as I’d like to fight this enemy, you’re not ready for him. He’d tear you apart.”

Thanks for that. So helpful, I said. And I don’t exactly have somewhere to run so…

Gods, there were so many people here right now, all of whom would die if I stayed. I had to keep them safe and…

On the off chance we survived, I’d like to avoid getting strung up for my magic.

Is there anywhere isolated on this ship? I asked. Dim, can you check?

Without a word, the Daevetch splinter disappeared, leaving Bright watching me with approval.

“Good thinking,” they said.

As I inclined my head in acknowledgment, hands seized my arms, forcing me to face Marcuset.

“What’s the matter?” he said. “Are you feeling… or maybe seeing a threat that the rest of us can’t touch?”

For a moment, I just blinked at Marcuset, wondering exactly what he wanted to know. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that he’d been asking-

Getting in my face, the commander hissed, “Raimie. Is another primeancer nearby?”

Another… primeancer…

“You know?” I asked with my heart in my throat.

Growling, Marcuset shook me.

“Shock, later,” he snapped. “The answer to my damn question, now.”

Hell. He was right.

Swallowing hard, I nodded.

“Teron,” I said. “He’s here.”

With color draining from his face, Marcuset released me, taking a step back.

“Alouin. We’re dead,” he said.

As if to emphasize the point, a panicked shout rose from the main deck, followed by the typical noises of a commotion, and when I glanced toward it, my blood ran cold. A familiar figure was standing among the sailors, shadowed by an unknown.

Dim? I said.

I was surprised by how calm that had sounded in my head. The same jittering fear that Teron had twice imbued in me had my feet pinned to the deck while my heart was loudly beating in my ears, but a small, alien part of me was isolated, wrapped in the cold calm of logic and analytics.

Popping into being in front of me, Dim said, “The hold. It’s the only place I could find in such a short time span.”

It’ll work perfectly, thank you.

Step by slow step, Teron was making his way to the forecastle, picking his way around frozen people.

My people.

I needed to speak this truth to someone, even if it was just my splinters.

So, I said, They’re mine.

And Bright drew themselves upright while ribbons of light unspooled from them, wrapping around sailors and soldiers and family.

No one touches what’s mine, I growled, baring my teeth.

And with a manic giggle, Dim clapped their hands. At each of those impacts, a wave of darkness blasted from them.

Stopping short, Teron jerked his hood toward me, and slowly, I rested a fist over my heart before bowing, keeping my eyes on my enemy as I did.

“Marcuset,” I said. “Get us to land. Now.”

Then, Daevetch flurried down Teron’s arms, and I bolted.

Below deck, I was racing down a passageway when I spotted someone further along it, and my heart stopped in my chest. I put on a burst of speed right as my father noticed me.

“Raimie, what’s going on?” he asked. “I heard shout-”

Taking hold of his arm, I shoved him into the cabin at our side, slamming its door closed behind him. With a knife already in hand, I wedged it into the jam.

“Sorry, dad,” I shouted. “I love you.”

Then, I was off again. My father would be furious with me for this—how many times had he talked about getting his revenge on Teron?—but in this fight, he wouldn’t stand a chance.

It didn’t matter that he was a better fighter than I’d have believed a few months ago. He didn’t have primeancy, and having used only a fraction of my own magic thus far, I was a little shocked that we’d survived our first encounter with Teron. Whether I’d survive this second one was debatable, but hell, if I wouldn’t save my father from it.

Once in the dimly lit hold, I glanced about my battleground, full of barrels and crates. There wasn’t a lot of space here, which could be advantageous.

Or a detriment. How the hell was I supposed to know?

“Ideas?” I said while listening for the sounds of pursuit.

Bright and Dim looked…

I wasn’t quite sure how they looked. Like they were more maybe, larger than they typically were, if not in size, but that was fading fast.

“Hide?” Dim said. “Surprise him?”

They’d sounded distracted with their eyes unfocused, and that was getting steadily worse.

“You want to surprise a battle mage who specializes in terror?” I asked, glancing askance at Dim.

But they didn’t respond, just slowly blinked at me.

“What about the trick you two pulled above deck? The ropes of light and dark waves?” I said. “It gave Teron pause. Could you do it again?”

For some reason, this snapped Dim out of their lethargy. With their eyes focused on me, they rocked in place, filling the hold with laughter, and I sighed.

“I’ll take that as a no,” I said.

“We did nothing,” Bright mumbled. “Was all you.”

Glancing at them, I said, “What?”

But Bright had sunken into a vacant state again, and examining my splinters—one of whom was dazed and the other’s status unknown—I shook my head.

“I am absolutely, totally dead,” I said.

Both splinters fixed their eyes on me with something panicked in them.

“Most likely,” they said.

Slapping my hands to my face, I rubbed it.

“Just fucking great.”

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Rhylix

I had a temper. I knew this, and because I did, I actively went out of my way to control it.

Right now, I was considering abandoning my control so I could throw Gistrick overboard.

“Look. You can stay on this ship. You don’t have to go near Teron,” I said. “I just need to get close enough to make my own crossing.”

For a moment, Gistrick considered my proposal, but then, he vigorously shook his head.

“Too risky,” he said. “Can’t you feel it, Rhy? Who can stand against Teron? Everyone on that ship is dead.”

Glancing at said ship, I watched as Raimie ran—when had he overcome his terror?—among the petrified members of his crew toward a hatch. Slowly rotating in a circle, Teron strode for a shadowed portion of the main deck, and my heart leapt into my throat.

“It’s just battle magic,” I said. “Teron’s not as powerful as you think.”

“No. No, this is madness,” Gistrick said. “I need to get us away.”

He spun toward the ship’s wheel, and rolling my eyes, I took hold of his hair so I could slam his face into solid wood. When he went limp, I moved him out of the way before staring at the wheel.

“How the hell do I steer this thing?” I said.

----------------------------------------

Raimie

Huddled between crates, I kept an eye on the hatch that led into the hold. Bright was standing below it, swaying in place, while Dim hovered beside me.

It wasn’t the best configuration. Not only was I unsure about whether I could use Ele or Daevetch to fight another primeancer, but with Bright in la-la land, I was reluctant to use them as more than a lookout.

At my side, Dim hissed, spinning toward a darkened portion of the hold, and tightening my grip on Silverblade, I turned that way much more slowly. Even squinting, though, I couldn’t see what had alarmed my splinter. Glancing over my shoulder, I checked on Bright, only to find them staring in the same direction as Dim.

Before I could ask them what they were doing, the ship lurched, setting the hull creaking and nearly toppling me.

The fuck had that been? Had we hit something? If it happened again, would it breach the-?

“He’s coming. It’s too bad. I’d have liked granting you a few more minutes of life, Raimie from the line of Audish kings.”

With cold strangling my heart, I faced the darkened spot—where the voice had originated—but this time, I might see something in it.

Maybe.

“I’ve enjoyed having you around. Your living, breathing state aggravates my Volatility splinter beyond reason, which is something I’ve always liked. A tit-for-tat, if you will. They’ve made me do so many awful things over the centuries. Do you know what they call you, little king?”

Slowly, I eased along the crate I was crouched behind, moving toward the humanoid shape in the darkness. Maybe if I got close enough, I could…

What exactly would I do when I reached Teron?

“Volatility names you the Balancer, you poor child.”

Having run into an invisible wall, I almost squeaked aloud. The Balancer?

In the chaos of crossing the Narrow Sea, I’d forgotten about that mystery. With a dry mouth, I peeked at first Dim and then Bright to gauge their reactions, but my thoughts skittered to a stop on viewing the Ele splinter.

Bright was still swaying in place, but behind them was a man hidden by a cloak, holding a sword to the side. As if in slow motion, Teron swung this blade at Bright, and I wondered why I was so frantic to reach them. What could a physical sword do to a piece of a primal force?

Maybe this fear was Teron’s battle magic talk-

When connecting with Bright, the sword slowed down, as if it had met resistance, and in utter silence, I watched the splinter gasp with their eyes going wide. I watched tendrils of night blaze down the blade, watched Bright find me, and then, they exploded in a spray of light fragments.

Lurching forward, Dim howled, “NO!”

But the sound of it had come from the bedrock of reality, and the patches of dark found within the hold expanded as if inhaling. They grew and grew, and as they touched the hold’s torches, those flames went out, leaving me in pitch-black.

Dim’s howl fell to a shaking voice, one that was jabbering to nothing.

“I can’t do this alone. Can’t- can’t-”

Struggling through disconnected thoughts, I reached for my Ele source…

…and found nothing.

Bright? I shouted. Bright, where are you?

Had- had Teron just killed-?

“Let’s see you balance without Ele.”

Oh… I didn’t know how I kept myself from leaping at Teron and ripping his throat out. Instead, I went quiet, listening to the silence.

“You know, my master would reward me if I brought you to him. From my time spent chasing you, I know he’d find you entertaining.”

Fissid, Lancik, Paft, Drigel, Bright…

Bright. Gods.

“If that weren’t enough, you’ve already attracted a Daevetch splinter, making you a prime candidate for becoming an Enforcer.”

Somewhere nearby, Dim growled, low and feral.

“But in the end, it wouldn’t be wise to introduce you two, despite how much ending your life will pain me. You’re too much of a danger to my master.”

“He’s right in front of you,” Dim said with their voice made of ice.

Shooting to my feet, I lunged with Silverblade, pouring every ounce of my outrage into it, but Teron merely batted the blade aside, which lurched me sideways.

“To your left,” Dim said.

When I swung this time, Teron’s parry was forceful enough to rip Silverblade out of my grip. Backpedaling, I reached for a weapon, any weapon, but a hand around my neck stopped me, adding speed to my retreat. When I was slammed into the bulkhead, my head bounced off of its wood, making my ears ring.

“Tell your aberrant splinter to hush,” Teron growled. “They’re making Volatility angry, and not in a good way.”

Dim, don’t you dare… I started.

“The dagger at your back, Raimie,” Dim calmly said.

Gods, how had I forgotten about that? Ripping it from its sheath, I stabbed in the direction of Teron’s voice, but something caught my wrist, banging it into the hull once, twice, three times. With my fingers spasming, I dropped the dagger, and as I was jerked forward, it was kicked away.

“Stop. resisting!” Teron hissed, smashing me into the bulkhead with each word.

Even in the dark, the world was spinning, and dazedly, I reached out.

Dim? Dim? Dim?

“I’m sorry. I have nothing else,” they said. “Against him, my whole won’t help you, and you’re… I have nothing.”

Which meant I was going to die. Again.

Surprisingly, this thought spread a smile across my face, because look at me! Here I was again, fighting for my life, resisting as Teron had put it, but this time, I’d gotten a reaction. This time, I’d made him angry.

Starting in my belly, a laugh struggled around the bastard’s hand, brokenly bursting out of my mouth. The moment that glorious sound hit my ears, however, Teron bore down on my neck, cutting it off, and I clawed at the hand pinning me.

“What could you find so funny right now?” Teron spat.

When he eased up, I spent a good minute coughing, but when I could, I answered.

“Worth it,” I rasped. “Even if I die here, it will be worth it because I’ve been annoying enough to bother cool, implacable you, all of which tells me one thing. I’ve stuck around when others would run. Your battle magic’s not working.

“Which means I’m not afraid of you.”

In the hold’s utter stillness, my ragged gasps were loud, competing with only one sound.

Clapping, Dim said, “Well done, my human. Your strength overshadows his aura of fear. You’ve made me proud.”

Teron sucked in a gasp.

“Pathetic child,” he hissed. “What good will that strength do you now?”

Something cold slid across my neck, and behind it, warmth flowed between Teron’s fingers and my skin, leaking over my chest. As a sheet of ice crept over me, starting at my hands and feet, I struggled to stay awake. I didn’t want to slip away, didn’t-

The pressure on my neck was released, letting me crumple to the floor, and a dull pain in my side had me tumbling. Somewhere nearby, light flashed, and a brief glimpse of a familiar face chased me into the black.

----------------------------------------

Rhylix

Someone was screaming himself hoarse in this cabin, blocked by a knife, and recognizing the voice, I wiggled the blade holding the door closed out of wood. As soon as it was possible, the door was slammed open, and I had to spin in place, clutching Aramar’s arms, to keep from falling.

Once we’d regained our balance, I almost released him, but he moved to blindly barrel toward the hold. So, keeping hold of him, I snapped my fingers in his face. After a moment of blinking, he focused on me.

“Rhy! Thank Alouin,” he gasped. “We have to-”

“We have to do nothing,” I said. “I will save Raimie’s ass again because I have the tools needed for it, and you are going to evacuate this ship. Do you understand me?”

Aramar looked like he’d argue, but deflating, he nodded.

“Just please-”

“I’ll bring your son back,” I said.

Slowly breathing out, Aramar clapped my shoulder before taking off for the main deck. I headed in the opposite direction, ignoring the annoying nuisance beside me, and as if uninterrupted, they continued from where they’d left off.

“You must be careful with this,” Creation said. “Yes, Raimie is essential to our efforts, but so are you. So, please. Don’t be reckless like you sometimes are.”

Gazing through an open hatch, I absently said, “Creation?”

“…Yes?” the splinter said.

I looked up at them.

“Do shut up.”

And I dropped through the hatch, landing in a spray of light while Creation groaned above me. In the dark, I couldn’t see Teron, obviously, but I could feel Daevetch, pooling on one side of the hold, and as I turned toward it, something thudded to the floor.

“I believe this is yours.”

Raimie rolled to a stop at my feet, and when light revealed my friend’s sightlessly staring eyes, I stopped breathing. Dropping to my haunches, I pressed my fingers to his slippery neck, slumping with relief when I felt heat rising from his skin. I had something—no matter how slim it was—to work with.

After feeding Raimie enough Ele to keep him alive, I rose to my full height before calling to the Ele in the hold. Eagerly responding, it lit the space with a flash.

Where I’d felt Daevetch coiling, I found Teron, leaning against the bulkhead with a sword planted between his feet, and at the sight, air seemed sucked from the hold because… because…

“Where did you find Lighteater?” I asked, ignoring how anxious I'd sounded.

I was right to be worried, though. With dark veins crawling over it, the sword was wrapped in a shifting, black spiderweb, and in its vicinity, black motes coalesced from the hull, from the cargo, from Teron himself.

And the sword hungrily sucked them down, forcing Ele to retreat from it.

“My master has long anticipated the resistance that would come from across the water, and as such, he has given me leave to borrow this blade,” Teron said. “Did you think he’d never heard of the Audish royal family’s foretelling? Given that, why wouldn’t he have prepared for it?”

“Doldimar’s crazy, but he’s never been stupid,” I said.

Surveying the hold, I ran through my checklist.

Idiot, dying kid? Check. Specially forged sword that he’d somehow already lost—gods, we needed to have a talk about that? Check. Several heavy crates between me and Teron? Check.

Yep. That ought to do it.

“Speaking of Doldimar, could you bring him a message?” I asked. “Tell him that the Ele primeancer said, ‘Your time unchecked draws to a close. We’re coming for you’.”

Arcing an eyebrow, Teron said, “Just an Ele primeancer?”

That was interesting. Had Doldimar opened up to his underlings this time around?

“Phrase it how you like,” I said with a shrug. “He’ll know what the message means.”

“Why should I deliver it, though?”

Lifting Lighteater, Teron held it to the side.

“Once I destroy you, your message will be pointless,” he said.

…Maybe Doldimar wasn’t sharing. Although…

No. It was more likely that Teron actually thought he could kill me.

Idiot.

Rolling my eyes, I said, “What is it about Daevetch primeancers and their suicidal overconfidence?”

Teron’s eyebrows scrunched together, but I was done talking. As I attracted the Ele in several crates to what lay in the bulkhead, I hefted Raimie’s body over my shoulder, and said crates shot forward at impossible speed.

They crashed into wood, and it didn’t matter how well-crafted this ship’s hull was. Against that much force, it had no choice but to crack. Once it had, I bound my feet to the floor, raised my hand, and shot a massive amount of Ele from it.

Teron dodged, building up a Daevetch layer in front of him as he did so, but he wasn’t fast enough. Nothing was fast enough to outrun Ele.

He was blasted into the bulkhead, which was enough to tear a hole in it. As seawater rushed into the hold, Teron was sucked through, and I started taking deep breaths, forming another attraction between Silverblade and my hand. When it slapped into my palm, I closed my fingers around its hilt.

Waiting for water to fill the hold, I shook my head.

Seriously. What was it about Daevetch primeancers?