His body ached while the sun set. He hadn’t ran like that in a long time, sometime before he began dragging himself into the library and living in it like a bunker against the rest of the outside world.

The first step of that journey would be backwards. It was fear of the woods that eventually got him moving. His legs ached, especially his knees and his ankles, and when he lifted his head from the bark he’d been resting it on, his neck admonished him for pushing it out of place for so long. He didn’t want to be stranded here when darkness fell, and whatever other creatures of the night emerged, so he walked slowly back to the village.

He hadn’t been expecting the smell. There was a thick layer of it that he waded through to get to the houses. He realized as he got closer that it was the scores of dead bodies that were producing it. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing, walking vaguely towards the center of the village, where the stench grew stronger, until a thick gust of wind blew by and gave him an inkling of fresh air. He found this moment to be the appropriate one to vomit, and quickly the smells returned. But now he had a motivation: water.

Maisero found two canisters of it in a cupboard that had been buried underneath two walls and a roof, all of which had been reduced to thin panes of wood and were easy to drag out of the way. He drank deeply from the first, and although he could wipe away the taste, he couldn’t erase the jaggedness in his throat. But it was enough to rejuvenate him. He went in search of bags, and he found a couple of large ones made from animal hide. He found plenty of clothes (that he hastily tried on), food and water to pile onto there. There wasn’t much money or jewelry; Maisero imagined that the Sacredate’s men had looted the place before he could take a swipe at it.

He ended his hunt at a mattress, still standing in the corner of what remained of a house. He found some large planks of wood to lean on the structure to obscure him from the rest of the world. It stank of wood, but that was far more tolerable than what he’d endured outside. He wiped the bed of shavings, then fell asleep.

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The bags were heavy to carry together. The day was windy and clear, and the sun as perfectly happy to declare itself in the sky. He had to drag his bags most of the way to the water. When he arrived there, he found more of the same; each of the ships had been destroyed, what remained of them floating precariously on the water’s surface. They stretched like stepping stones far into the horizon, but stopped. But, mixed in among the destroyed ships was a small canoe, which he discovered was at least large enough to take him and his bags. It was moored too far up the sand and was difficult to dislodge, but he managed to push it out. His legs were in even more pain than they had been yesterday, but the task wasn’t too troubling. Some sort of panic seeded itself in him, and he scrambled quickly to catch up with the ship, as though he would miss his own ride. He made it on, found two oars to carry him with, and began to row.

The movement came far more naturally than he thought it would. That and a mixture of his own fear of the water kept him moving. The small ship struck the planks of wood frequently enough, but he got out of there without too much trouble. Faster, faster, there was something shouting at him. There was too much chaos behind him. Something he needed to run from. And somehow, despite the pain, the agony, and whatever else was thrown at him, he could—

He heard shouting. At first he thought it must have been coming from the water, and he actually glanced out from the side of the boat, only to realize that the only thing that would greet him there was his own reflection. No, it had come from another ship—one that was sailing steadily towards him. The moment he saw it, a wave of relief fell over him. But so too did the reality of the water around him, and he immediately crawled into a ball at the bottom of the ship and lay there, waiting for the other ship to arrive.

Although he’d screamed for Maisero, Balto wasn’t ecstatic about adding him to the crew.