Splintery wood dug into Glim's bottom. Salt spray stung his eyes and dampened his clothes, which clung to him like wet mud. Gulls gathered on the masts of the ship and dropped gooey, pungent poop all over the deck.

All told, it was the best he'd felt in days.

On the horizon, he could barely make out the waterfall where Adversity poured into the waters of Hammer Bay. The calming roar of the waterfall had lifted his spirits while the crew prepared Caeorn's ship. The whitewater and tang of invigorating air—two things he’d never experienced before visiting Summerling Ridge—buoyed his flagging mood. Hitting the sea and putting the waterfall behind them had been even better. The ship bore them away from the storm and unclenched some of the tension around his heart.

Glim had been awed by the immensity of the sea from his vantage point in the mountains. Up close it impressed him nearly as much. Just as massive, but more alive. Water in all its forms had never seemed more alive.

He found Lhani at his side, her face to the wind and her eyes closed. Black and white streaks of hair danced around her brow. Glim saw the hint of a smile on her lips; white teeth against brown skin. She opened her eyes and rolled them towards Glim, keeping her face pointed into the breeze. Her smile emerged and lit up her face.

Glim smiled back. “This is a good wind that bears us away.”

Lhani agreed. “I have a newfound admiration for the sea. There is no sea wide enough for my tastes.”

“We should help the others plan. Arrad can hear us and also talk to the others, and that is a boon.”

“Indeed I can.” Glim hadn't heard Arrad approach. “When Peakseye is upon us we must be ready.”

Far afore, Glim could just make out a spur of land on the horizon. “Is Peakseye there?”

Arrad shook his head. “That is the last vestige of Phyria. We are not even halfway.”

Arrad led them to a scroll of parchment Caeorn had unfurled over a crate. Candlesticks and Gerard's hatchet weighed the corners so it lay flat.

The map gave Glim a new perspective on the scale of Æronthrall. Phyria, which had always seemed so vast to him, was but one of three continents, and by far the smallest. Algidonia lay south of Phyria. Hammer Bay spanned both continents between dual arcs of land that mirrored each other. Algidonia reminded Glim of a trussed bird ready for the pot. Across the seas lay Æolicia. Most of Æronthrall's land comprised that immense arc than ran from one pole to the other. Though Æolicia was unbroken, people considered it two continents: North Æolicia and South Æolicia.

Peakseye lay at the very tip of Algidonia on a promontory surrounded on all sides by water. They could find a fast ship there and head for…Glim couldn’t decide where they should head. He didn't know what they were doing now, for that matter.

Beside him, eyebrows knit in concentration, Gerard also studied the map. He seemed to reach a decision and clapped loudly. “Gather round. I have given this some thought and I think I know where we should head next.”

Gerard looked at Glim with some mixture of frustration and resignation; feelings Glim had come to tolerate of late. “The thing that hunts us is locked in Glim's mind. When Lhani came to know it, she also fell mute. Algidon, whatever it is, is so fell a thing that it darkens the minds of whoever knows it, and ties their tongues. Therefore I have no wish to scry Algidon's true form.”

Glim blanched and Lhani looked sick. Gerard moved on quickly.

“Algidon seeks the hammer which is borne by Arrad. Hammerfall. Hammer. Not only that, but a hammer buried deep in the ground, as if it had fallen from the heavens. That is too great a coincidence. I prefer reason to coincidence. And now I believe that the places in this world have been named on purpose by the Elderkin -- not colorful references to some ancient mythology, but literal signposts.”

No one spoke. Gerard's words troubled Glim, whether for their preposterous implications, or because they rang true. He’d found the Elderkin eerily informed, even from beyond the grave.

“The witch told us to seek the sickle and sling. The continents are clearly named after essentiæl forces.”

Glim gripped the edge of the crate. He at least could absorb and understand Gerard's meaning, having literally met Algidon in person. The rest seemed like they were waiting for a punchline, or to wake up.

All but Arrad, who Glim could not read at all. Ever since taking up the hammer, his demeanor had changed.

“Hammer Bay held a hammer. I wager that Sickle Bay,” Gerard stabbed the map far to the south, almost across the world, “holds a sickle. And that suggests what we face. The Three Mauraders.”

Gerard beamed in triumph, and Glim nodded enthusiastically, but the others didn’t seem to understand. Gerard deflated a little.

“Ahem. The Legend of the Three Mauruaders is a myth about three giants that roamed the face of Æronthrall. I dimly know it. It described a hammer and a sickle, and a large battle with the Elderkin, but it has been over forty years since I heard the tale. One thing I am certain of: the sages at Fsisbon will know this myth. We must know it too. Fsisbon is on Sickle Bay just as Hammerfall is on Hammer Bay. Where better to protect such ancient power than from the greatest repository of lore in Æronthrall?”

Gerard leaned back with pride, as though he had just presented a brilliant theorem at some summit of alchemists. The listeners had no response for him at first. But then Arrad dropped the hammer onto the deck of the ship with a resounding crash.

“Protect ancient power, you say. I say, protect ourselves from ancient power! I am different ever since I took up this hammer. I see things more clearly. I can hear Lhani and Glim. And though I haven't tried it yet, I wonder...”

Arrad lobbed an enormous chunk of ice across the sea, and hurled several more after it. The arc of missiles splashed into the water like a volley of cannonballs. The others, stunned, instinctively backed away from Arrad.

Glim understood all too well. Arrad had been touched by Algidon and had the power to prove it. Did he also share the certainty that all of them were going to die?

Glim looked at the dispassionate boy and fear trickled through his mind as a realization took form. It could be even more sinister. Perhaps Arrad, in some part of his consciousness, now plotted for exactly that outcome. Glim recalled his own struggle against the certainty of destruction. How would it be to struggle against an overwhelming urge to cause it?

Instinctively, Glim took Lhani’s hand, and positioned himself to protect her. She raised a questioning eyebrow, and he immediately felt overprotective. Lhani knew her brother far better than he. But he didn’t immediately let go of her hand. The contact reassured him somehow. He saw the same relief in her eyes.

At least Arrads's next words sounded reasonable, which further assuaged his concern.

“I don't know what has happened to me, but this I do know: if the hammer gives an unskilled Icer like myself such power, what will it give Algidon? I will do as the witch says and keep it from him.”

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Caeorn edged his way ever closer as the discussion wore on. He cleared his throat, startling them all.

“You're telling me that essentiæ itself seeks your blood? Something thousands of years old has risen and now pursues you? And that you need to get to Fsisbon, or else you'll die a bloody death and all of Æronthrall will be destroyed?”

Gerard lost some of his smug air. “Well... that is... alright, yes. That is the gist of it.”

Caeorn said nothing. He pointed his face to the sky, as if seeking truth there, or doubting every word Gerard had said. Yet when his face turned back to them, it shone with a manic energy.

“That is fantastic! The definition of epic!”

Glim decided he liked the man.

“The witch in Hammerfall…” Caeorn hung his head, as though mourning her. “She was stalwart and generous. Protected us more times than I can count, and nary a complaint left her lips. She died to help you.”

Caeorn looked around the circle, as if weighing each of them in his mind. “I owe her no less. You saved Hammerfall, and Hammerfall shall save you. I'll see you safe to Fsisbon.”

Glim watched as the others clasped arms with Caeorn and thanked him over and over. Lhani kissed him on both cheeks and Glim detected a deeper blush in the man's already ruddy cheeks.

Glim remained apart from the others. He tried to pierce through the oppressive blanket that dampened his thoughts. Somehow the blanket felt lighter. Having a goal provided some relief. Get to Fsisbon. Get answers.

You already know the answers. You know what comes. The blanket draped back over him, suffocating his thoughts with its oppressive weight. Fsisbon is a diversion. There's nowhere to flee to. Nowhere to hide from Algidon.

Glim realized that Caeorn was still talking and strained to overhear.

“When ye reach Fsisbon, seek the Freesquare. Fastest way to get answers in that den of monkeys. The learned ones laze about there, outdoing each other by spouting bits of trivia.”

The sarcasm in Caeorn's voice pierced Glim's malaise. He smiled at Caeorn's implication, as though sitting on a plushy cushion and reading scrolls was far inferior to an honest job like sailing the seas.

Caeorn shouted. “Men, put your hearts into this sail. It shall be a run to rival Archōn Knoss herself!”

The crew cheered so loudly that Gerard flinched. They fussed with the sails and found an extra inch of give to push them even faster. Caeorn slapped Gerard on the back and waited for some acknowledgment before sighing in exasperation.

“Argh, man, do ye not even know Archōn Knoss?”

Gerard shook his head and Caeorn frowned.

“Back when the world was wee, people of great repute were granted the title of Archōn. Fine warriors and statesmen, who settled matters that others could not. Usually with swords.”

“At that rate you'll be an Archōn for sure!” a nearby sailor called out.

Caeorn waved him off and checked the skies. Dark spirals of cloud had gathered above them, and the wind bit into Glim. He saw the others cover themselves and huddle down as the sails fluttered and the ship creaked.

Caeorn returned to his story.

“Knoss was an Inspire witch, and had a foul temper to boot. She sailed The Everflow, raiding and pillaging at will. Part Winder, part Cinder, see? Her ship, Fyre's Breath, always had the benefit of wind at its back. But one day, she stopped raiding. Just like that!” Caeorn snapped his fingers in Gerard's face.

His crew laughed, but Caeorn did not smile. He turned serious and his voice sounded reverent. Perhaps even a bit mad.

“She took Fyre's Breath into the northern reaches of the Septentrional Sea, somewhere in The Shards. What happened next is not mere legend, but fact. Records persist to this day from either end. I've seen them with my own eyes! She sailed from The Shards, and twenty one days later berthed in The Nethers. Twenty one days! One pole to the other! It boggles the mind. None since have bested it. A hair under five weeks is the shortest run I believe the telling of.”

“When was this epic sail, Caeorn?”

“Sometime about... five thousand years ago, give or take. But who's counting?” Caeorn's face split in a wide grin and his men laughed.

Gerard smiled. “What was the witch's name? I would like to know it and thank her in my thoughts.”

Caeorn seemed puzzled at the question. “Now that she is passed, I realize that I do not know. I have lived beside her for almost twenty years. Isn't that odd?”

Glim thought about Ryn’s tight-lipped nature and smiled to himself. Not as odd as you might think, Glim thought wryly.

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅

Night fell. Glim lay beside Lhani on the deck where they watched the stars. Glim wondered if there were a place in that wide sky they could flee to. Escape Æronthrall and the impending destruction. They had more chance of uncovering some spell to whisk them away to another place that surviving the onslaught of the awoken god and its unfathomable power.

Lhani's hand found his in the dark. They lay that way for a long time. Long enough for her warmth to find its way in and still the troubled thoughts in his mind. Glim longed to say something, but feared spoiling the mood. Finally Lhani ‘spoke’ to him.

“Forgive me, but I am overcome with curiosity.”

Glim propped himself on his side and looked into Lhani's face. Her beautiful, uncertain face.

“About what, Lhani?”

“You. Your heart. Your body. The strength and balance in your limbs.”

“You want to feel my muscles? Are we on a playground?”

“I know it is silly,” she said without moving her lips, “but I have been in your mind and now feel disconnected from you.”

Her eyes insisted, blazing bright in the moonlight. Oddly enough, Glim felt as she did. He felt closed from her and did not like it. He longed to be connected with Lhani again.

“Go ahead.”

She ran her hand along his arm. He flexed it for her, feeling foolish. She put her hand on his chest, and then his thigh. Her touch felt right and tickled some part of his mind. But Lhani sighed in frustration.

“I feel like I have been kicked out of a house into the cold and I'm now peering in through the windows.”

“The person inside the house misses you and hopes you stay warm.”

“Is there no way we can be connected again?” Lhani’s lip wavered as she held her emotions back.

“There is one thing we could try.”

Glim lifted her hair away from her brow and looked into her eyes. He brushed his lips softly against hers. The touch sent a thrill through him, but he could not tell how it was for her until Lhani's lips surged against his. Their kiss went so long that it forced him to draw breath. Glim nestled her head against his chest and draped his arm around her shoulder.

From the darkness, Glim saw the glittering eyes of Arrad fixed on them. Glim felt enmity radiating from the boy. It was a long while before Glim felt safe enough to sleep.