Revin lost his meal over the side of the boat for what must have been the seventh time. The broad ocean, which had once been so alluring, just made him sick. He was often cold, wet, and due to his constantly emptying bowels, hungry.

Revin caught Ismander up on the last fifteen years on the Hiriv island. Revin was barely three when Ismander and some other monks had left. She’d been friends with Revin’s father and refused to talk about what had happened or why they had left.

“At least tell me what happened to the other monks, the ones my father mentioned?”

Ismander frowned, “We went our separate ways once we thought Narazoth was dealt with. Beadoróf went north, as you heard. The others went south and west.”

South? What’s to the south? “Will we find Beadoróf in Ateya?”

Ismander shrugged. “Perhaps. Last we spoke, he was planning on allying with General Omrai Speartip of Ateya. But that was before the Volisnans fell.”

Her gaze was pulled to the ocean, Revin couldn’t look at it for long without getting sick.

“Have you tried contacting the others?” Revin said.

Ismander laughed. “You really have no idea how large the world is, do you?”

It was Revin’s turn to shrug. “Honestly, not a lot of monks go out to find Lords anymore.”

“That tradition was decreasing even when I was on the Hiriv,” Ismander said.

“Why don’t more monks go out?” Revin said. “Why wouldn’t they? Especially when they could control more beasts?”

Ismander narrowed her eyes in thought, steadying the rudder. “Comfort. The Hiriv island has everything they need. If they’ve never known greater, why seek it?”

Revin cocked his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”

Ismander laughed. “That’s because you have drive, Revin. That’s too tiring for most folks.”

They were quiet for a time, Ismander watching the sky, eyes narrowed.

“You’re new to the wide world, like I once was,” Ismander said. “If you are going to survive, you must learn two things. First, is how to master the saurians, your little wolf won’t be enough. Second, you must learn to use a sword.”

Ismander jumped forward and before Revin could react, she had a sword pointed at Revin’s face. “Whoa!” Revin said, scooting back. His body still ached and begged for sleep. Blackfire sensed Revin’s fear and growled at Ismander.

“Tell your wolf to back off. Get up,” Ismander said firmly, her lips set in a thin line.

Revin complied, telling Blackfire to stand down. He stumbled to his feet. The cold had already drawn away so much of his energy. He wanted to do nothing more than sleep.

Ismander held a second sword toward Revin, still sheathed. It was the sword he’d taken from his father. He gave her a look that he hoped communicated how exhausted he felt.

“We’re practicing now,” she said.

“Can’t we do this when we get to land?” Revin begged.

Ismander leaped toward him. Revin didn’t have time to do more than flinch. Ismander touched the back of Revin’s neck with the flat of her blade, his own sword, still sheathed, was pressed against his stomach. Blackfire sensed his panic and had stepped forward, growling at Ismander.

“Narazoth won’t wait,” Ismander said. She stepped back a few paces. Flipping Revin’s father’s sword to extend the handle to Revin.

Revin tried the most forlorn face he could muster, but Ismander tossed him the sword anyway. Revin fumbled at it, almost dropping it. He removed the sheath. Looking at the dark gray blade. “I don’t have a clue what I’m doing.”

“Use your imagination,” Ismander said.

Revin wondered if he was holding it right. Was it two-handed? Did he hold it further up or down? “I’m more used to wrestling things,” Revin said.

“You can’t wrestle a metal warrior.”

“But I’ll have beasts to do my fighting for me!” Revin said.

“Only a coward would stand back when others fight and die for him,” she snapped, her tone sharp. Revin felt a spike of guilt over his fear. “Now mirror me.” Ismander moved, holding the sword at chest level, pointing skyward. She swung it down in a semi-circle in front of her.

Revin tried to remember which hand moved where. It took him a few tries, with instruction from Ismander, but he finally did it right. They repeated the activity with several different blocks. Ismander said they’d start with how to stay alive and move on to how to kill later.

Ismander rushed him, her sword came down toward Revin’s head. He swung his sword up to block, their collision ringing in the air. Ismander smiled.

“Decent,” Ismander said with a frown that told him the opposite was true, “and once you’ve mastered some saurians, we’ll get you defensible…” Ismander smiled. “Let’s just say Narazoth should shake if he knew we were coming.”

✦✦✦

They had been on the water for what felt like weeks. The days, at some point, had blurred together in an endless cycle of dark and light. Ismander kept track of the day, reminding Revin when to do the weekly incense ceremony. They’d done it somewhere between three and five times.

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Ismander was often quiet, looking ponderous or depressed. Revin guessed she was thinking of Tungol, missing him. He would often reach out for Blackfire, laying his hand on the wolf’s soft, furred head. He didn’t know how he would feel if he lost Blackfire.

He alternated between reading to banish the mind-numbing boredom and staring at the sky to recover from the nausea from reading. When one was too much, he would switch.

He’d read the Sephitaron before. The creation of man, when Sephitaro came to the world and taught the path to Father God, to overcome, to root out one's inner evils and return to Father God clean. He read about the Haltirin, men who had lived a full life but were allowed to remain to help Father God and Sephitaro with their work. They had immense power, to move worlds and destroy with a thought. He wondered if they were real.

Sephitaro gave man other powers. Some could read minds, others could heal with a touch, and rarest of all were those with powers over fire, lightning, and more. These were the Gifts. Revin had never seen them, and according to the histories they had been gone for thousands of years.

Last given and last mentioned was Beastspeaking. Sephitaro said if the monks followed his ceremonies, they would have access to it. Because of his mother, Revin now knew what would happen if he stopped.

Once, the beastspeakers had tried to conquer the world. Sephitaro had returned from the Beyond and destroyed many of them and had added the requirement of choosing a Lord. Their power would only work if their will was aligned with their master’s, just like Sephitaro’s strength came from his alignment with the will of Father God.

Revin held the side as the boat rocked suddenly. He tensed and took a deep breath, trying to ignore the nausea.

“Revin,” Ismander said, “we’ve got a storm coming.”

A crack of thunder caused Revin to look up. A dark cloud spread across the sky, dropping lightning, bringing forth a rush of wind. The waves rose and fell in mountainous heaps, making any other wave he’d seen mere hills in comparison. The world was an undulating mass, shifting and moving beneath them.

What have I gotten myself into?

Blackfire whimpered beside him.

“Pack the bags!”

A rolling mound of water approached. It didn’t break like a wave at the beach. How could something so massive seem to move so slow?

“Now!” she yelled.

Revin shook himself out of his stupor. He snapped his book shut and shoved it in his bag. Fortunately, Ismander had told Revin to keep most of his things stowed away. Revin folded the anti-rain flaps and tied the canvas. Hopefully that would be enough.

“Done!” Revin shouted, “We’re ready!”

Ismander looked at him, her hair getting wet from the coming rain. She shook her head and laughed.

Revin frowned. The water ahead of them was beginning to rise.

Ismander looked ahead. “Nether-”

She cut herself off and looked around the boat. The water beneath them ascended.

“Hang on to a railing!!” Ismander yelled.

Revin grabbed with both hands. His chest fluttered fiercely.

“Don’t move!” In a flash, Ismander tied a rope around Revin’s chest and quickly looped another around Blackfire.

Rain pelted Revin’s face. Blackfire huddled close, anxiety mounting.

The slope rose sharply, the boat lurching higher. It jerked suddenly.

Ismander shouted a curse and pulled a lever to lock the steering wheel in place. She turned to the mast. She ran, yanked a rope, and pulled the sails closed.

Revin’s hair stood on end. Lightning struck the mast.

Both Revin and Blackfire jumped. The thunder violently interrupted the rain, wind, and waves, replacing them with a high-pitched ringing.

They crested the wave. Just beyond the darkness of the storm Revin thought he saw land.

His equilibrium twisted again. He stumbled to the deck. The ship tilted downward. Great waves splashed toward the land. His concentration dissipated. They headed straight toward the churning ocean.

As they hit the bottom of the swell a great rush of water exploded over their little boat, striking the deck and scattering. Sucking away any heat that Revin had remaining. He took gasping breaths, looking around as they ascended another wave. He could hardly feel his hands from the cold, but he held.

The world spun as they dove down another slide, and his eyes widened.

The shore was fast approaching.

✦✦✦

Revin sat on the beach, shivering and wrapped in blankets. He wore only his undergarments, and Ismander stood nearby, tossing another stick into the fire burning nearby. Revin tried to ignore the embarrassment of a woman seeing him in his underclothes. But nothing in Ismander’s posture communicated awkwardness, just pragmatism.

The last few minutes had been a blur of motion. Holding on for dear life, cold water rushing over him. Ismander hopping to and fro on the boat, fixing and tying, grabbing the wheel, the ship crashing into the shore, striking a rock and dropping Revin into the shallow, yet freezing water. Ismander had worked quickly, retrieving dry blankets from the hold and building a fire even faster than Revin could.

Blackfire lay curled next to him, keeping him warm. His clothes hung on a stick near the fire. The sun still hung above the ocean, but it offered little heat. The boat lay on its side on the beach. The hull was shattered down the left side, and the sails were torn to shreds.

He turned from the sea. A lightly frosted forest lined the beach, filled with dark pine trees taller and thicker than those back home. Revin shivered and Blackfire pressed harder against him, offering what little extra heat he could provide. Revin wondered if other plants here were the same. Would there be berries? Small game? He sat up, and his head pounded in response. He tried to blink away the pain.

Ismander patted Revin’s clothes. “These’re about dry, and warm from the fire. Get dressed.”

Ismander tossed the clothes. Revin barely caught them before they could smack him in the face. He held them close; they were warm.

Revin dropped the blanket and shivered again. “Thanks.” Revin poked his hands through his sleeves. He shuddered as he pulled up his pants. Once they were on, he sighed in relief at the comforting heat. Ismander looked out towards the ocean. Away from Revin changing. She closed her eyes as if savoring the breeze.

“I didn’t know waves could get that big,” Revin said once he was dressed. His outer robe was delightfully warm.

Ismander glanced at him. “You don’t know a lot of things,” she turned back to the ocean.

“What are you looking for?” Revin said.

“My bag.” Ismander shook her head. “It’s probably long lost.”

My bag! He looked around the fire. Ismander calmly grabbed Revin’s bag from a pile of other bags.

“It’s good you wrapped them so tight. You saved your books,” Ismander handed the bag to Revin.

He opened it quickly. The contents inside were safe. Ismander smiled wistfully and nodded. She sat on a rock near the fire, warming her hands.

She let out a breath and her face grew more concerned. “Now that you’ve changed, I’m going to have a look around. The snow is making the area hard to read.”

She looked to Revin; eyebrow raised in question.

“Go ahead, I’ll be fine.” Revin nodded, scratching Blackfire behind the ears. Now that Revin was awake, Blackfire was excited, alert. Ready. Always ready.

Ismander nodded and walked off.

Revin lay down and closed his eyes, using Blackfire to keep watch. His eyelids grew heavy as a great weariness overtook him. His limbs going slack.

A low moan echoed from far away. Blackfire’s ears perked up and he sniffed the air. His alertness spreading to Revin. Revin opened his eyes and sat straight. Then, a bellowing roar thundered, shaking the trees. Snow fell and flying creatures scattered into the air, uttering terrified, high-pitched screeches.

It had been loud and deep, as if coming from a great beast. Was it one of the saurians Ismander talked about? Blackfire seemed nervous, a primal fear growing inside the wolf. What sort of a beast could make a sound so loud that even the forests trembled?

Revin waited a long time, but the sound never returned.