Chapter 19

  The night after the loss of the Tesstess the Andros and Pequod continued on after only a brief wake for the fallen. It was quickly determined that it would not be possible to retrieve the bodies of those who had passed and safely keep them to be brought back to Mirage for a proper funeral. The distance was simply too great, let alone the dangers. Silence was observed as most stared down into the pit where the destroyed pupa bull remained, now half buried like all those it had killed. Everyone knew that this was different from when the reausler had stolen the lives of two off of the Pequod. At least in that instance there were no bodies to be taken back. If you looked a little too closely, you could see the shapes of those who needed to be left behind in the loose sand.

  In lieu of the Tesstess it was the Andros who took the lead and followed a pair of ornithopters who flew slowly and low to make sure that the sandsailors were able to get through the field of pupa pits safely. There were quite a lot of them, stretching out in either direction east and west in an eerily straight, if wide, line. When William asked Joscur about this peculiarity, he had as close to an answer as anyone could give.

  “In all likelihood, a pupa queen deposited eggs sometime before we left Mirage. Just bad luck that they landed in our path,” he theorized.

  “If that’s the case, weren’t those things a little big to have been hatched less than a month ago?” the eidolon asked as the Andros cruised along in a serpentine path through the yawning pits.

  “They are bulls. Male pupa,” Joscur explained. “Queens are comparatively rare and fly when mature, dropping eggs from the sky who mostly hatch as bulls. Bulls pupate quickly and hatch as already impressive sized beasts, then grow rapidly with just a bit of food in their systems. As you saw, they will eat just about anything. Consequence of living in the Wastes. A lot of them do not make it to what is considered adulthood for bulls – what took the Tesstess down – either due to predation from other pupa larvae, or starvation.”

  “But enough do to make these pit-fields?” William posited.

  “Most of these are likely empty,” Joscur stated, looking out at another passing conical trap. “Or host to a dead pupa beneath the sands. That is my best guess, anyway. I make no claim to be an expert on these beasts.”

  “Isn’t part of your job to keep an eye on these things when you’re outside of Mirage?” William asked, a small smile forming at the corners of his mouth as he added, “When you’re rescuing young men from the wandering the Wastes?”

  Despite his general disposition of late, Joscur found himself sharing the same sort of tiny grin as William, though it quickly vanished like a drop of rain in so much water. “My experience is more in watching for queens in the skies and avoiding them as much as possible. I am by no means an expert on their live cycle or behaviors. All I know comes from either indirect exposure or books and training.”

  “So you’re saying it hasn’t occurred to you?” William wondered aloud.

  Joscur frowned. “What would that be?”

  “That these pits were put here intentionally. By Lucifer.”

  Joscur’s frown deepened. “No. I had not. Do you believe it is worth considering?”

  “Quite the coincidence that they ended up directly in our path,” William pointed out, gesturing to either side of the Wastes as they sailed through it. “Quite an effective trap to set if you didn’t see it coming. Which we didn’t. If it wasn’t for Vivicetti being so far ahead of us, we all might have ended up in one of those pits, and that would have been the end of that…” He trailed off, looking away from Joscur and down into another passing trap hole. “I think those things would have been infected with the same ichor that the other oleum are. I didn’t see any coming out of that bull when we punctured its brain six times over, so, I have to assume that, if Lucifer did set them in place, he chose not to infect them for some reason.”

  “What reason might that be?”

  William shrugged. “Maybe he couldn’t have? Didn’t have time to, or maybe pupa are immune for some reason? We simply don’t know one way or another, but it’s worth considering every possibility going forward. Maybe he set up another set later on down yonder. Maybe he infected those, but not these, to trick us into a false sense of security. The oleum in Mirage didn’t behave like their uninfected counterparts, so who’s to say that an infected pupa wouldn’t act differently from these and catch us off guard?”

  Joscur leaned against the railing and glared down at the passing sand. “You have… given much more thought as to what Lucifer might be capable of than I have,” he admitted slowly.

  “Don’t take it personally. I’ve had a lot more practice being in the minds of others than you have,” William stated, trying as best as he could, given the circumstances, to offer comfort.

  “This whole thing is personal for me,” Joscur reminded him coldly, hands balling into fists. “What Lucifer has done to my family is unforgivable. I… want to kill him. With my own hands. To avenge my wife and son. Yet I haven’t thought of the possibility of him setting traps for me along the way. That he may know I’m coming for him and try to stop me. I have thought only of ending his life in fire and fury, and I…”

  His head hung low as the weight of his vendetta became known to him for the first time. William allowed a moment of silence to pass between them before daring to say what he said next.

  “We may not have to kill him, you know.”

  The look in Joscur’s eyes as he turned them upon William was equal parts disbelief and raging despair. William continued regardless.

  “Back in Mirage, when I fought him, I… I didn’t get through to him exactly, but, he didn’t kill me either. I’ve thought a lot about why that is, and there’s three equally real possibilities. The first is that I wounded him enough that he needed to retreat. Second, that he was trying to infect me, too, and didn’t want me dead. Third… that he’s still in there somewhere and is fighting for control over… whatever that ichor is. If that’s the case, and there’s a possibility that I can get through to him, we can figure this out, and -”

  “He has to pay for what he’s done to my family,” Joscur insisted firmly.

  William sighed. “Okay, I know you think that, but, what I’m telling you is there’s a distinct possibility that Lucifer is as much a victim in all of this as anyone. If I can get through to him and actually talk, figure out what these oleum are and how they function, then we could be on the right track to the real reason that you… lost so much. You could get real closure, real vengeance.”

  “And if you are wrong? If you cannot reach him?”

  “Then we’ll kill him, and I’ll ask him in his next life,” William stated in a hushed tone.

  “You say such strange things from time to time. I do not know if I will ever fully understand you,” Joscur stated, took a breath, let it out slowly. “But I am glad that we are on the same page for this. I admit that since… Since Vamo,” he forced himself to say, meaning to say more but was unable to do to his voice shaking. He dare not test himself further and relieve that moment in the collapsed tunnel. “I have thought of little else than avenging him – you know – killing his killer. Finding someone to blame. I think this talk has been the first I thought of anything else… If… If what you suggest is true. If Lucifer is not the cause of my family’s deaths, then I will spare him. Or at least leave him to you. And if you are determined to go to the source of all of his misery, then I will go with you and help in any way I can. For Syla. For Vamenco.”

  The Andros and Pequod passed by the final pupa pit as Joscur made this declaration. William nodded, reached out and placed his hand on his shoulder, and walked away to let the grieving father process his feelings on the matter while he did the same. Killing Lucifer… letting him live if he can be reached. Can be saved. Getting answers about the oleum… All answers awaited them just a few short nights straight ahead.

  ***

  Teutna had handed the wheel off to a different crew member not long after they made it past the pupa pits and were able to accelerate again so that she could go and have a chat with Vivicetti. The bloodling was sat not far from the helm on the starboard side of Captain Teutna’s ship, staring out into the night. The surviving members of her crew, that were bloodlings are least, were also seated nearby in grim silence. No one from the Tesstess had done any work on the Andros nor had Teutna expected them to. Truth was the poor devils were still mostly in shock from the tragedy that had happened less than a day ago.

  Be that as it may, Teutna wasn’t raised to let someone wallow in misery if she could help it. Especially not a fellow sandsailor captain! She knew that they all knew the dangers of this operation before leaving the safety of Mirage. Something awful as this happening had been a possibility from the very beginning. And now that it happened, what, Vivicetti was just going to sulk? When they were so close to their goal and coming out here to begin with? It just didn’t set right with the rambunctious ningen to see her this way!

  “Permission to approach, Cap’n?” Teutna broached, standing right beside Vivicetti.

  The bloodling captain, and a few of the other members of her crew, all looked up to Teutna, their eyes flashing in the dark. Teutna would be lying if she said that seeing those glowing globes didn’t give her a bit of a shiver. Eyes of a predator they were. A predator of ningen specifically, even. She was mostly good about keeping her prejudices in check when it came to dealing with bloodlings, but any time she caught those eyes illuminated like that… she just couldn’t help it. The physical reaction was instinctual.

  “I’m not a captain anymore,” Vivicetti replied sullenly, limply lifting a hand. “Do as you like.”

  “As ye say,” Teutna shrugged, stepping forward and looking down at the bloodling who was sat directly to the left of Vivicetti. “Would ye mind terribly scootchin’ a wee bit?”

  Silently the bloodling complied and Teutna took a seat in between the two of them, resting her back up against the side of the Andros while Vivicetti used the railing as an arm rest, her chin planted on her own forearm.

  “So. Ye’ve lost yer ship and much o’ yer crew. Damn shame, that.”

  “A ‘damn shame’?” Vivicetti scoffed, furrowing her brow at Teutna. “Did you really come over here to deliver that weak understatement?”

  “Nae. Came to try an’ get yer head back inna game.”

  “Mm. A game?” Vivicetti said with a slow nod. “You think this is all a game.”

  “Nae. Tis just a turn o’ phrase, love. I’m tryna empathize with ye, kin it?” Teutna clarified.

  Vivicetti laughed. Despite her expression being one of utter contempt, her laughter sounded quite mirthful. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just – you want to empathize with me? Forgive me for laughing, it’s just – that’s so funny, Captain! The thought that you could possibly understand what I’m feeling right now!”

  “Hey, hey, dinnae be so chuffed, I’m bein’ serious!” Teutna urged.

  “Oh, so am I. I don’t think you have any idea what I’m going through, and frankly, I don’t need your pity on the matter,” Vivicetti hissed coldly.

  “Ye may be surprised, kin it? I recently lost much of me crew myself, when Lucifer attacked,” Teutna confessed. That caught Vivicetti off guard.

  “I didn’t know. I’m sorry for laughing… how many did you lose?” Vivicetti asked sheepishly.

  “All told? Six, I kin it. Good lads and lasses all. Those be the dead, not counting the ones who gave up the ghost after the whole sordid affair. Counting them, nine in total,” Teutna answered candidly.

  “Well, that beats my eight lost to a stupid pupa pit,” Vivicetti grumbled.

  “Is nae a competition of sufferin’, mum! Tis a terrible thing both, bein’ bereft of crew,” the ningen pointed out.

  The bloodling sighed. “I know, I’m just… I know, okay?”

  “Sorry, lass.”

  “No, I’m the sorry one. It’s my fault that they’re dead, that I don’t have a ship and only half a crew. What good’s a wellerman without a sandsailor?” She shook her head, rubbing her chin on her arm. “If I hadn’t been so pissy about a couple of sacks full of gems, they’d be alive and I’d still have my Tesstess. Fuck, I miss him…”

  “They’re good ol’ boys, kin it?” Teutna asked, tapping her foot on the deck of the Andros. “When we return home, ye can always commission another be made.”

  “I don’t have that kind of gem stockpile on hand. Besides, it just wouldn’t be the same,” Vivicetti grumbled as the wind blew through her hair. “It’s not just the sandsailor, you know? It’s the memories! Oh, the memories! The stupid shit we’d get up to on our downtime! There was history on the Tesstess! Lots of good stories we’d share with each other!” Some of the other nearby bloodlings stirred at these words. They knew exactly the sort of stories she was referencing, having helped create them themselves. Their longing and ache was just as deep as hers as they sat quietly among themselves.

  “Now they’re just… gone. The Tesstess is resting on top of a dead fucking bug and is going to get buried in sand sooner rather than later. Completely sand-fucked. Along with the bloodlings I called friend and family alike. Captain? Mum?” she scoffed. “I’d be better off as some drunk in Triple TNZ at this point…”

  “What about the Andros?” Teutna asked.

  Vivicetti gave her a confused look. “What about the Andros?”

  “Cannae afford a new ship just yet, why not come work under me, when this venture is all concluded, ye kin? Fairly certain that none o’ the crew I scrounged up quick, fast, and in a hurry to go on this will wanna be wellermen once we all go home. Could use some experienced, capable hands to fill their spots. Leastwise long enough ‘til ye can afford yer own replacement Tesstess and I can find some good lads and lasses to replace those I’ve lost.”

  “Nothing’s ever gonna replace the Tesstess,” Vivicetti said coldly, then sighed, lifted up her head, and turned on the spot to lean against the side of the Andros like Teutna was. “But, I don’t know. I’ll think about it. Talk with my crew, see what they think. Assuming we survive burning these oleum freaks to death, I’ll get back to you about it.”

  “Bonny. Well, I best be getting’ back to the helm. Ye and yer crew rest up for the night, tomorrow evening I’ll want yet pullin’ yer weight, same as anyone else, on board me ship,” Teutna informed her, standing up to go.

  “Wait,” Vivicetti said, looking up at the scruffy haired ningen. The bloodling felt her face flushing, genuinely embarrassed about what she was taking the opportunity to say while Teutna was around and unoccupied. It wasn’t exactly a subject that a bloodling tended to broker with a ningen, but, given the circumstances, social taboo had to be set aside. “There’s something we need to quickly address, mum…”

  “Aye?”

  “The thing is… well. You know. Me and my crew. We’re bloodlings…” Vivicetti said hesitantly, hoping that Teutna would jump to the conclusion all on her own.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  “Aye…?” No such luck.

  Vivicetti huffed. “One of the unfortunate losses with our supplies was the stock of blood that we brought with us for our own sustenance. We’re going to have to actually feed eventually. Preferably sooner rather than later.”

  Teutna blushed, feeling foolish at having not considered this basic fact of bloodling biology until it was presented to her square in the face. She was just as aware of the social taboo as Vivicetti was, but, being ningen, had never really directly confronted it like this before.

  “Oh… I kin it,” she said. She cleared her throat. “I’ll… discuss rotations with Cap’n Luff to see that you and yours are tended to.”

  “Thank you,” she said, her amber eyes catching the light of the moons like dual candles. Teutna nodded and walked away back towards the helm, fighting back the crawling sensation on her skin. She wasn’t the sort of ningen who felt any sort of fear or resentment towards bloodlings, but they were the better part of a month away from Mirage and still a ways away from their destination, and there was the return trip to consider as well. That could be a lot of turns being fed on for a lot of ningen. Try as she might, she simply couldn’t make herself comfortable with the thought of feeding a predator, even if it was out of necessity.

  ***

  True to her word, Marisia had stayed out of the way as much as possible and done her part to help when the time was needed for it. While everyone else was helping those aboard the Tesstess survive their encounter with the pupa bull she and her father had stayed below the deck of the Andros. In the moment she’d begrudgingly gone along with it and allowed her father’s over protectiveness to hold sway over her, but the two hadn’t spoken while they huddled together in the dark. At least she didn’t. Joscur spoke his mind idly while they waited for things to clear up, reasoning that they would be safe down there, that the wellermen wouldn’t get them any closer to the pit since they’d seen the Tesstess fall in. He lamented the recklessness of the captain that had let it happen in the first place. He hoped that Daniellex was staying safe, wondered aloud if he should go and get him as well.

  When the wounded began to be pulled on board Marisia sprang into action. She’d pushed past her father and gone back above deck, asking where they were being taken and what she could do to help. She could practically feel the adrenaline in the air as wounded people were taken over the lip of the Andros, could smell the coppery tinge of blood in the air, a chemical smell she couldn’t identify that she’d later find out was the remains of the pupa that had caused all of this, the sweat of those who were working in near perfect synchronicity to manage this crisis. Not a single step sounded panicked or misplaced. She wondered how everyone was being so efficient, admiring how brave and experienced they all must be.

  She did her part, though, being gently guided over to those who had fallen victim to the pit and tending to them. Most only needed water, which she was happy to fetch for them, and rest. Others had bumps and bruises that would heal with time. Some were more serious with open lacerations, deep scrapes, or blows to the head. Marisia had no real knowledge of anatomy beyond the basics and so could only assist in wrapping or changing bandages, finding places for people to lay down, but even this she was content to do. The gestures she performed were small, but important, and, most importantly to her, genuinely helpful. She proved her worth in the hours that followed in a way that made her proud in a quiet sort of way.

  The best part, she would feel after the fact, was that no one made a fuss about her blindness in the moment or even afterwards because of her dedication to helping others. That felt good.

  The Andros was past the pupa pits now, though. The wounded had been tended to and the mission to locate Lucifer marched ever onward. Someone with calloused but gentle hands lead her to a spot where she herself could take a moment to rest and collect herself. She felt the cool dry air continually caressing her skin and tussling her hair about, wondered if these were the sort of ‘soft winds’ that everyone wished for others back home. It didn’t take her long to start missing the presence of William, for her to keep her ears perked for any sound of his downy steps.

  It didn’t take long for him to appear either. He placed his hand on her shoulder and she immediately recognized him by his smell, a smile breaking out over her lips as she reached up and placed her hand over his. “How’re you holding up?” he asked with what sounded like tenderness in his voice to her ears.

  “Well,” she assured him, caressing her thumb over his fingers. “Sit with me a while?”

  He complied, taking a seat beside her and resting his sword against his far shoulder. She scooted closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder, taking his hand in hers and continuing to pet it with her thumb. He didn’t stop her. She let herself believe it was because he enjoyed her touch as she did his.

  “How much further away are we from where we are going?” Marisia asked.

  William gave her a quizzical look before the realization dawned on him. “You don’t know where we’re going exactly, do you?”

  “Not… exactly,” she admitted sheepishly. “I know we are headed somewhere to find Lucifer, but-”

  “Yeah. You never got the briefing since you sneaked aboard,” William interjected, leaning his head back against the railing wall. “I’m not certain exactly. The haboob kind of threw my inner chronometer into chaos. It should only be a few more days, though.”

  “What are we going to find when we get there?”

  “Well, from what we know from surveying ahead of time, there’s a… forest, of sorts, we’ll come to first,” he explained.

  “A forest? You mean trees?” Marisia perked up, lifting her head off of his shoulder. “I have not touched a tree since I was very young. I do not even remember doing so, but my suta told me that she made sure I had the chance to when we visited the mainland. She always said I seemed to like them very much.”

  “These aren’t going to be like ordinary trees, though,” he explained. His fingers laced in hers and her heart fluttered in her chest. “They’re mirror-like from what we’ve seen. You know what a mirror is?”

  “A piece of glass that when you look into it you can see yourself,” she confirmed with a light snicker. “Not that I would know!”

  “Right, right. Well, they’re not normal trees by any stretch of the imagination. We couldn’t see much before the ornithopter was dealt with, but I’ve never seen trees like that. Ever. So it’s safe to say that it’s something that Lucifer conjured. Or, if not…” The eidolon trailed off briefly, not wanting to consider that, on top of every other unsettling thing the oleum were capable of they were somehow responsible for the mirror forest as well. “Beyond the forest on the peninsula we’re headed towards is a citadel, where Lucifer is at. We’ll have to take the wagons to get through the forest and approach the citadel.”

  “And that is where Lucifer and… and the things are? The oleum?”

  “Yes… are you… do you know what the oleum are?” He looked at her as she shook her head.

  “The monsters that stalked Mirage years ago? That took my mother and brother from me? Do I need to know any more?” she asked, pressing herself even closer to William’s side.

  “No, I guess you don’t…”

  “You are going to confront these things in the citadel?” Her cheek rested against his shoulder once more. “You and baba and Uncle Dani?”

  “Yeah. Well. Hopefully we won’t have to,” he said with a sigh. “The chance is slim, but, if I can actually talk with Lucifer, maybe…”

  Marisia took advantage of the pause to change the subject. She didn’t want to think about where they were going anymore. “Tell me about Cornello?”

  That caught William off guard. His hand loosened around her fingers. “What do you what to know about him?”

  “Anything… You mentioned him before. I want to hear you talk more about him,” she asserted, her cheeks burning with the butting heads of jealousy and curiosity.

  “He’s… special, to me,” William started off, unsure of how much to say in the first place for a whole host of reasons. “It’s not that he’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met, or anything like that. I’ve known people just as kind as him aplenty. And it’s not as though we have this special shared history or anything. Honestly I kind of crashed into his life and he was soft enough to take the blow!” The eidolon laughed. Cornello would have liked that. Being called soft. “He’s accepting of me in a way that few other people have been. I really appreciate him for that. When I’m having doubts, or when I need to open up and vent, he’s been there to listen and support me. Never judging. Never asking for anything of me. He just...accepts, without expecting anything in return.”

  She had no way of knowing that what William was referring to was Cornello being aware of his secret – who, what he was – and seemingly not caring. There was so much more to it than that, though, such responsibility that William, ironically, had no choice but to shoulder as the eidolon of Twilight and Choice. For most people it was simply easier to play the fool, hide in plain sight, go about his ceaseless work. With Cornello? All of that seemed to just fall away, and for a short while, he could simply be a person, as opposed to simply being.

  All she heard was the unfettered love that William had for this Cornello in his heart and felt the writhing agony of her own twisting itself into a knot in her chest. She almost regretted asking at all! Angry spite snarling within her at listening to the man she found herself adoring faun over someone else! She soothed her envy by reminding herself that now, in this moment, even if it was just for a little while, she had William’s hand in hers and Cornello didn’t. He’d even given her hand a squeeze again and that helped to loosen the knot in her breast a bit. All things considered, even with the exquisite agony she felt, it was nice hearing his voice warm up like that; like the rays of morning sunlight smothering the cold night on the Waste’s sands.

  “He sounds very kind,” she managed to mumble without removing her cheek from his shoulder. William concurred with a brief, “Mm,” and left it at that. He didn’t feel that it was in his best interest to be dwelling too much on his fondness for Cornello right then and there.

  Spontaneity once again threw a curve ball to William, who, once more, was unable to see coming the instantaneous suggestion that came blurting out of Marisia’s mouth anymore than she could. “I could be Cornello for you!” she practically barked, the thought not even fully formed in her mind before it came rushing out of her mouth – altogether too loudly for her comfort, as well. And yet she had said it, obeying her impulse without concern for consequence until after the fact!

  “What?” William asked, bemused. Flustered.

  Marisia’s head jerked up and she pulled herself away from William, turning to face him as her entire face boiled over from the embarrassment rising from her chest! She started to sweat at her hairline and her palms felt clammy! Was she doing this? Apparently so! But her words were failing her, fumbling out of her mouth and tripping over themselves in half uttered syllables as she tried to collect herself. Her heart was pounding against her ribs demanding escape!

  “I… only meant that…” She forced herself to take a deep breath in order to steady her mind. Impulse had driven her to this, and she was committed to seeing it through. “Since Cornello is not here, and you do not know when you will see him again, I could be… accepting of you, in his place… I…”

  The shame was too much for her to continue with its proximity to a confession. She turned her face away from William and brought her hand up to her mouth, moaning quietly into her fingers. She never knew feeling so cold so suddenly would feel so awful! The boggy malaise was blissfully brief resting in her gut as she felt William’s hand come to rest on her shoulder, the blind ningen pulling her head back around. His touch felt like the minuscule warmth of a candle in an open window.

  “Thank you. You’re very sweet,” William said in that feather soft tone of his, but his words turned her stomach in knots! Sweet? Like some little girl who didn’t know what she was talking about or what she wanted? Was that what he meant? Why did a compliment sound like an insult suddenly? She found herself wishing not so quietly that he hadn’t called her that, even if a small butterfly fluttered in her stomach over it.

  “It could be nice, having someone to confide in, at least, in the meantime,” he said, and instantly it was as if a vice had been removed from her torso. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath since he called her ‘sweet’. “I can’t promise that I’ll tell you everything, like I would Cornello, but if you want to offer an ear to listen to me, I won’t deny you that.”

  ‘Good enough,’ she thought to herself, wondering how she could feel so exhilarated and so tired all at once. “So,” she said, a bit too high pitched because of her throat constricting itself. She swallowed, asked, “What would you be telling Cornello about now, if he were here? What would you like to say… to me?”

  William was quiet for a length of time that was only seconds but felt as though it lasted several agonizing minutes. She wrung her palms in her lap and tried to focus on the feeling of William’s hand, which hadn’t left her shoulder yet. When he spoke he was facing away from her – she could tell by how his voice felt – and his words were strange to her ears. In his mind, William imagined Cornello was sitting beside him and not Marisia so as to let the words flow easier. Never the less, he was still careful in his selection of verbiage.

  “I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I really don’t. It’s so hard…. There’s something wrong with Lucifer and I don’t know what! I keep trying to figure this all out, and I keep failing. Lucifer has been corrupted, somehow, by these oleum and I don’t know what it is or how it can affect us, but it can and I have no control over those that are infected by it! That scares me, because there’s only so much that that can mean… and I don’t want it to be true. He might have been on to something but he can’t tell me now. He isn’t himself, and I’m scared. What if that happens to me? What if there’s no coming back from… whatever being an oleum is? For once, I don’t have the answers to any of this, and I’m just so tired. I just want to stop. But I can’t. I’m haunted by the vastness of eternity. All I know is I miss you, and that I’m scared, and so alone without you. All these lives in my hand, all their suffering, and for all I know, it might be for nothing... But the oleum are new. And they’re dangerous. And that means I have to find out what they are. I have to know, because if you’re here, somewhere, there’s a chance that you’ll get caught up in all of this, and I won’t be able to save you. So I have to go, to face Lucifer, and hope that I can get through to him and that he can tell me what’s going on. But I don’t know how much longer I can do this for… I’m so tired…”

  Marisia was stunned into silence as she listened to William bare himself to her, honestly, fully, for perhaps the first time. The moment was punctuated by his sigh as he tilted his head to rest it on top of hers.

  “You… take so much responsibility for so much that is beyond your control…” she said slowly, trying to make sense of what he had said as best as she could. He stared silently at the deck of the ship. “Is it truly fair to put so much on your shoulders like this…?”

  “Fair? What does fair have to do with it?” William chuckled. He sounded profoundly ancient as he spoke, frail from years he should not by any logic have to bare for how young he was.

  It made her shudder with unease as she adjusted beneath him, and ineffably curious. So much so, in fact, that she found herself becoming suddenly annoyed at him for his mysterious answers. “Who do you think you are, William? The emperor?” she interrogated. “You talk as though Lucifer and these things, these oleum, are your sole responsibility. As though if you do not stop them, nothing or no one else could. But you are not alone here. So many have come to face these problems with you, and… and who are you, exactly? To think this way? To feel this tired?”

  She pulled her head out from underneath William’s, reached out and touched his cheek. His face was bristly with facial hair that had gone unshaven since their departure. She turned his face towards hers and asked plainly: “Who are you, William?”

  “Why do you want to know? Would knowing make any sort of difference?” he asked in that same weary tone.

  “No! I just – I mean-!” Flustered, Marisia sputtered, gripped his face tighter and screwed up her expression in annoyance. “I want to know you! To know things about you! So I can understand why you feel so… tired, responsible, all of it! I do not know nearly anything about you as a person, and that feels unfair given how I… How I am…!”

  He gave her the time and space to say what she felt she needed to say. She found that she lacked the courage, still, and dared not risk the comfort and self satisfaction she got for leaving it unsaid. She lowered her hand from his face, pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them. “How am I supposed to act like a substitute for Cornello when you say such strange things, and I do not know why…?” she pouted.

  William relented and gave her what she thought she wanted.

  “I didn’t know my parents for very long,” he told her, the confession getting her to turn her cheek against her knee and keep her ear open to what he was saying. “I emancipated myself when I was very young. Seven years old or so. They weren’t terrible or anything, I just… knew I had things that I needed to do. I never saw them again after I left. I took a boat from... what was my home. Started a whole new life in a new city. I’ve been on my own since then, aside from the found family I made along the way. Like Cornello.”

  “Go on…” she urged, considering this piece of the puzzle that was William and trying to figure out how it all fit together to form who he was as a person. Had growing up without parents taught him to keep things so secretive?

  “I actually formed a gang, believe it or not,” he admitted with a light chuckle.

  “You? A gang leader?” she asked, head lifting up, surprised laughter escaping her lips. “I do not believe it.”

  “It’s the truth, I swear!” he insisted. “We weren’t… you know, exceptionally violent or anything, but we got our fingers into a lot of pockets. Dealt with information more than anything. I tried to bring in people who were generally like me. Orphans, down on their luck, that sort of thing. We helped each other out, watched out for each other. Made sure we didn’t get into any sort of serious trouble.”

  “This is how you met Cornello?” she asked, a twinge of jealousy rising up her throat on the last syllable.

  “Yeah… Well. Sort of. Yes. It’s funny, actually, Cornello was initially a mark for us…”

  “A mark?”

  “Yeah, you know. A target. Someone we were trying to get information out of. Turns out he didn’t know what we needed to know, so we cut him loose, and he just kind of followed us home and became a part of the gang after a while. Just kind of fell into our lives like that…”

  “And this gang of yours – are they still around? From where you are from?”

  “No. No, we’re disbanded…”

  “And where is it that you are from, exactly?”

  “Oh, you wouldn’t know it.”

  “Try me! Baba has told me of many places. I know all of the major cities and settlements from Golem’s Isle up to the Wuldrang mountains!”

  “I’m serious, you won’t know where this was!”

  “Tell me! Let me know!”

  “Alright, alright… We had our base in Lundsburrow.”

  “Oh…”

  “Don’t know it, do you?”

  “I… no, I don’t!”

  “It’s alright! I didn’t expect you to…”

  For a while, the pair of them went on like that as they road into the night. William would tell Marisia things about his life, she would insatiably eat up what he told him and ask for seconds, thirds, a fourth course and dessert. For a scant few hours William didn’t think about the troubles that lay ahead of them and simply allowed himself to exist in the moment with Marisia. She got what she wanted and got to know William a little better. The information he gave her was superfluous and inconsequential, particularly because he knew it was three millennia displaced from actuality. None the less, he did open up to her. She delighted in learning what he allowed her to, and for a very short time, things seemed not as bad as they ought to have been for a blind girl who lost her brother and an eidolon racing towards uncertainty.

  Joscur even felt a bit of warmth in his chest hearing his daughter laugh again: Daniellex, too.