A nice, full night of sleep helps re-center my mind and I prepare for another day of royal foolishness. As I don one of my last sets of clean clothing, I replay yesterday's events. I'm still not sure why I snapped so viciously at the Cardinal; I've never tolerated such egregious disrespect in the past, but even for me the reaction was a bit visceral. Perhaps it connects to the sneakiness of Connor and Percival? All their muttering and planning makes me just as anxious as when I heard Connor's line of questioning on Ralachar; a prodding for information that trots like an innocent lamb but carries the unspoken viciousness of a wolf.

Realizing that I'd find no answer in isolation, I depart my quarters and walk to the deck, where I see Ato presenting Gene with a stack of boxes, each overflowing with various supplies.

"Well, what do we have here?" I ask as I walk down to the beach. Ato smiles when they see me land and clap happily.

"Supplies! You seemed upset yesterday, and when we saw your ship early in the morning, we didn't see much stuff, so we wanted to make sure you had enough food and necessities to continue your trip!"

"It is much appreciated Ato, thank you," says Gene, his body language seeming to match mine, carrying a feeling of slight shock at how Ato would still be so kind after the end of our last meeting. Once the boxes are loaded, Ato waves and bursts back into their tunnels. Gene orders preparations the ship to set sail with a chuckle and muses over Ato's delivery.

"If people were this kind back home, we wouldn't have any problems, would we?"

"They are this kind back home, at least most of the time," I retort. "The problem is that you haven't visited them in so long, you've forgotten."

Gene's mouth falls agape. He tries to muster a rebuttal at first, but eventually nods in agreement.

"You're right about that; I'll admit that it's difficult to claim to defend a people that you don't interact with... I can make more of an effort to visit once we return. Perhaps help some of the townsfolk with their shops, or re-opening them that is."

"That would be a sufficient start," I say, attempting to keep my voice filled with disdain to make him feel just a bit worse about his life choices. I hide a smirk as I walk back to my quarters, but my smirk turns into a nervous smile (With a touch of fear... and excitement... and indigestion, for some reason?!) when I bump into Natalia. She isn't shocked to see me, of course, but her mannerisms tell me she wished she hadn't seen me this soon. We both stand silently for a few moments before I blurt out a quick "Hello! How did you sleep last night?" like a neighborhood creep.

"Good, thank you," she replies. She searches for something to talk about other than the big topic and asks about yesterday.

"So, erm, how did your expedition go? Did you find anything for dear Lina?"

"Sadly not, but the leader of the island dropped off a few supplies for the crew, so I'm sure there's something in there she'll like."

"Well, I'll be sure to check later on."

"Please let me know if you need any help with that," I say with a polite smile. Natalia grins and nods thankfully, then walks past me toward the commissary. I feel my hands slipping from the summit of the conversation and decide to jump past the boulder of awkwardness in my way, whipping around the hallway after her.

"My apologies about yesterday, by the way. I had no intention to offen-"

"Oh,n- no! You didn't offend me, honestly," she replies, quickly refuting the notion. However, she still wavers in her response. "It's just that... while I admit that I find you attractive, there are things attached to your name that give me pause. Certain stories and rumors that I find unbecoming in someone I would want to court me."

"If it's the story about the goat, I assure you, it was a misunderstanding."

She laughs melodiously, causing my knees to slightly buckle, and she shakes her head.

"It is nothing like that. Well, it's a little like that. It's... the carousing, and the violence. You seem so cheery and well-intentioned here, yet your reputation is one of womanizing, endless partying, and bloody fisticuffs. I wish to be associated with no such activities."

I nod in agreement and hang my head low. I'm the first to sing of my many relationships, battles, and near-death escapes (Not always in that order), never caring what folks thought of me. Now, just a small bit, I regret singing so loudly.

"I understand your apprehension, Ms. Ziri, but I assure you, I take part in such activities far less than I used to."

She flashes me a stern side-eye, and I rephrase.

"Alright, a bit less... I'm working on it... I'm down to two bottles of wine a month..."

She sighs and kisses me on the cheek, then turns back to the commissary.

"Show me something that proves you are willing to change your destructive habits, and I would enter a courtship with you immediately," she says as she glides down the hall like the elegant swan she is. Oh, how I want to ruffle her feathe- nay! She said to change my habits first! I must ruffle myself before I may feel the embrace of her wings... And I feel my metaphors getting out of hand, so I grab a small plate of food from the kitchen and go to work with Gene to launch from Vetin's bay, and we're on the open sea within the hour.

The days begin to fly by quickly now. The third island, now all but confirmed to exist, seems to be much farther than previously thought. Luckily, the additional supplies from Ato help sustain our extended travels. After about six days of sailing on moderate winds, in the wee hours of the morning, barely able to keep a grip on the helm as my brain danced of swaying trees and bejeweled dancers (Give me a break! I cannot police my own dreams, dammit.), I spot a dark bulk on the horizon. My eyes shoot wide open, and I grab the horn to alert the rest of the crew.

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The king and his men stumble out of their quarters groggily, but all shoot to work as they realize our final quarry lay just ahead. In record time, the sails are pulled, and the anchor is ready as we near the bay and observe the might of the last island: Its height is a good four times that of our ship, and the way the shadow rolls over its sides is indicative of a rolling effect, with the land lowering to the sea the farther back you went, like a hilly ramp. It is astounding, and everyone is ready to land, except for one issue... there is no bay to land. As the ship floats nearer to the island's beaches, they not only prove too rocky to land, but are separated by a long, wide, winding river. It soon becomes clear that this is not one island, but two, connected by natural bridges that form high above our heads at the peaks of the giant landforms. Everyone remains deathly quiet as we pass by the sharp, shining rocks on either side of us, the air filled with the low yet energetic lapping of water and the chittering of unseen creatures. Gene joins me in the steering room to discuss strategy.

"The king is antsy," he informs me. "He wants to find a place to land immediately, and he doesn't seem responsive when I tell him that's just not possible yet."

"I'm inclined to agree with you. The walls are entirely smooth, so even if the crew was in any shape to climb, the rocks are too wet and have no footholds. We'll simply have to sail until we find an opening."

Gene shakes his head and sits in an open chair to my left.

"Do you want to try explaining it to him, then? I don't want him getting loud, or else it could be Ralachar all over again," he chuckles. I laugh and tap my fingers on the helm.

"Oh, no, let's just let him pout."

I turn back to navigating the ship, until a crucial thought hits me.

"Gene, Connor says he studied the myths about these places cover to cover, yes?"

"That's what he always said."

"If so, then why is it every time we trek to an island, we're left utterly gobsmacked with everything we see, especially him? He should be jumping for joy at how accurate the reports were."

"I... actually already considered that," says Gene. "Over the last five days, I looked in the storage room and found and studied some old copies of the legends, most likely the ones the King read from the royal archive (So that explains why every time I wanted to search for wine, there was someone in there!). They're not very clear on descriptions nor consistent on descriptions of the islands, nor their inhabitants past a general description of temperament -- Ralacharians being stern-faced yet fair, Vetinites being energetic -- and the resources they observed on said islands."

"Like the abundant plant life and the metal deposits?"

"Precisely."

I turn away from the helm and pace for a moment, tapping my foot on the creaking wooden floor. This trip begins to feel even more unnerving, but it makes sense.

"So, you mean to tell me that despite parading extreme knowledge of the intricacies of this archipelago, Connor knew nothing past what was of financial use in each environment? That we now know for sure he risked all of our lives not just on a hunch, but a thirst for more riches to squander?"

Gene seems reluctant to answer, as if admitting it will be like admitting to himself a grave mistake, but he eventually confirms.

"That... That's correct. The scrolls don't even mention a precise trade agreement terms, just that..."

"'That', what, Gene?"

"That... that the islands would be easy to harvest from once the time comes."

I'm speechless. The hardest thing to do to me, and the guy I once despised has accomplished the herculean feat. I eventually collect myself and lay out my thoughts plainly.

"So... you know what he intends to do, right? Why he denied the trade talks? He doesn't plan to trade shit, Christoph. He wants it all."

Gene stands up with rage, the kind of rage you have when you know you've already lost but can't accept it yet.

"No, no! He- he would never! The army isn't prepared for large-scale invasions. We-we don't even have the equipment to do such a thing! The training to execute an operation of that manner! The-they would never agree to it!"

"So, Connor buying all those guns was a coincidence? Him loading up a squadron of soldiers, his top general, and the Cardinal to join us on this trip was just to make sure I didn't become violent? Look around you, you royal oaf! Not only is the proof all around us, but you are the proof!"

"NO! How could he... why would he do such a thing? How could our kingdom be in this bad of a shape to resort to this? When I became a soldier, anxious to rise through the ranks, I committed to protecting the kingdom, not becoming a mindless weapon on its behalf."

"There are many cases when that line begins to blur, Christoph. This time, the line is not blurry; it is at risk of being completely severed."

"But what are we able to do to save it, hm?" He asks, his movements now similar to a rabid dog. "Go home and tell the world what he's planning? Who would stop him over people they've never met, especially without any concrete evidence to prove they exist? And just of the two of us trying to stop this madness? We'd be dead in worse ways than you could imagine, believe me."

"I... I'll figure something out. I always do."

"Oh, no, not this time, Saint. Short of a ball of fire falling out of the sky and hitting him directly, there is very little that can be done to rectify this situa-"

Suddenly, the boat begins to rock ferociously, and for once my words aren't the ones being cut off by a rude, and possibly injurious, interruption. Confused, Gene and I exit the room and join the rest of the crew on deck, all of us struggling to stay upright as our vessel heaves left and right. Connor wobbles over to us with anger.

"What did you two do?! Did we hit some rocks below the water?"

"No! The waters are some of the clearest I've seen!" I reply. "Something else is rocking us!"

"I have a guess as to what!" hollers Gene. He points to the sides of the boat, where massive, shiny ropes held near the ends of two land bridges flanking us rise from underneath our ship, now beginning to pull us to the peaks of the islands. My mouth falls open and I try to study our rapidly shifting surroundings to find a course of action.

"Gene, what did the legends say about the temperament of the third island's inhabitants?" I shout over the groans of the ship.

Gene's face turns stone cold when I ask him the question. I grab his arm and shake him back to life.

"Gene, what did it say?!"

"It said that they're extremely dangerous, Ozzy!" he bellows. "Not stern-faced like the Ralacharians, or excitable like the Vetinites, but bold and belligerent fighters always ready for battle! It said the adventurers were lucky to earn their favor and escape with their lives!"

"Well, how did they win their favor?!" screams Connor, now not even hiding he has zero idea what these islands are like. Gene shakes his head with a shiver.

"The scrolls never said."

As Gene's words echo in our brains and the true horror of our situation sets in, a blood-curdling cacophony of roars and screeches erupts from the dense tree line above, and a burgeoning shadow coats the foliage: The serpentine, gigantic shape of creatures with the bodies of men... but the heads of a hydra...