Hana was slightly alarmed at the look of growing confusion on her shipmates face. Oh, he's not joking. Even the most provincial goatherd in Elbar knew of the elemental composition of the world. As Uban spoke, Hana felt a flash of guilt for her condescension. All in Elbar were taught to read, and learning was the highest good. The light of modern reason hadn't spread across the continent, apparently. Elbar was a longs way from here, and magic lagged behind on the continent.

He wasn't an idiot. He just... Didn't know what the aether was.

She wondered if he knew that the earth revolved around the sun.

She felt bad for thinking that.

If Uban could tell just what thoughts were playing out in her head, he didn't let on. His dismay had turned back into enthusiasm and he effortlessly struck the medallion with lightning. As they spoke, Hana continued to throw the medallion into the air, letting him blast the target again and again as it slowly blackened and bent under the withering abuse. They quickly fell into a rhythm, letting the conversation flow between the moments of action.

"Magic in Elbar is a very deliberate thing. Those with natural inclinations towards magic are found at a young age, and educated. Of course, natural inclination normally means cantrips, not lightning. Speaking of lightning rods, you pretty neatly described what the medallion is. Lightnings drawn to it no matter the metal it's stamped on."

Hana stilled as Uban stepped close to her as he brushed his hand over her face. They were hot to the touch, and then gone. He stepped back from her, speaking rapidly, "Tell me, what are those marks you drew on yourself? What are they for, what do they mean?" She answered, "Just like how the medallion draws lightning, these markings protect me from lightning. It's one of the first things taught to weather mages, and we practiced it relentlessly. You can sew it into clothing, though that only protects the clothing from lightning and not the person!" She laughed, finding what she said funny. Looking again at Uban, she frowned. His easy smile was still there, and his eyes were bright. But his hands shook, and it looked like he was sore on his feet. "Look at you," she said, "you're pushing up against the edge." Extending her hand, she said, "Come on, lets take a break and catch our breath."

---

Pieter smoked his pipe and listened to Berlin.

---

The mermaid watched the octopus lash out at it's surroundings. Her hair floated around her and her strong tail flicked playfully as she spoke, "Why are you so angry, boy?"

“Can..trips...” it was obvious by the way he swished the word around in his mouth that it was the first time Uban had ever tasted it. He had absolutely no idea what cantrips were. Was that another name for some other element that he didn’t know? Or a technique of some kind? That same perplexed look crossed his face and he paused a moment from his throwing bolts to give her a blinking stare. He shook his head and laughed despite himself. “I’m hopeless,” he said lightly, laughing. “I ain’t an educated man and though I’ve been around, there ain’t much you need to know to sail on a ship. Much less if you’re a pirate.” His grin was wide and wild, his eyes dancing merrily—-his near permanent expression. But he did not mention his severe lack of an education with any hint of inferiority or shame. Uban knew that for most of his life, he had no reason to be educated, and so he wasn’t. He needed to know about the seasons and about the soil and about livestock, some carpentry and other mending. And more recently in his life he needed to know about ships and knots and combat.

“You’ll have to bring me up to speed one of these days, but it will take you a long while.”

They went back and forth for a few more rounds as Hana explained the markings and how they worked; already Uban’s mind was reeling. He had never been able to project his lightning before, and now that he knew the key to unlocking that skill, there were many possibilities open to him. The more he did it, the easier it became and if it weren’t for his dwindling energy, it would have been almost casual the way he flicked it out and sent a bluish streak up into the air to the medallion.

Hana suggested a break and Uban looked down at himself as if assessing his condition for the first time, like he hadn’t noticed. But his hands were shaking gently but steadily, and now that he was thinking about it, his stomach felt violently empty. For a moment, he looked like a child being told to wait to open his birthday presents, like he might protest. But Uban gave a soft laugh and a single nod. “Oh...hah, yeah. Probably a good idea. I could go for some food...where’s Rohaan? I’ll see if I can put him up to finding us some more grub.” When he didn’t see the boy after a quick glance around, he took a step towards where Berlin was seated in the distance and began, “Hey B—“

Uban halted, one foot still in the air in mid step, and then he pivoted on his planted heel and walked back the other direction towards their banked fire. If the cringe on his face wasn’t enough to explain it, he said, “Um, never mind. That’s not a good look the Cap’n’s got on him. Considering I don’t see Rohaan OR Wheel, I’m going to take a wild guess and say something happened. But nothing’s on fire and nobody’s dead, so it must not have been that bad,” he said without a hint of sarcasm or jest. “Still, something ain’t right. If I’m reading Berlin’s expression right, it won’t do any good to get involved. Sometimes with those two, you just gotta put your hands up and take a few steps back ‘till the fire burns itself out. In the meantime, I think I’m going to go rummage the hold and see what else we got to eat down there and see if I can put something together. I’m a miserable cook though. Sorry.” He gave his signature smile, but his eyes were not as bright, not so carefree as they had been.

—-

Rohaan’s fluid body was like a roll of roiling smoke, tentacles curling and reaching and grabbing all at once. He would have preferred to find a fish and rip it apart as a shark, but all the creatures nearby had fled or hid in his presence. It gave him some surprise then when he caught the glimmer of scales out of the corner of his eye and, before he could turn, he heard a voice.

Some muffled part of him wanted to be enraged and lash out at this intruder. But then...he kind of didn’t. He had never seen a mermaid in person before but he’d seen the figurehead of Tevira on the Borealis and had heard Pieter wax poetic about them many times, or seen drawings of them in some of the books Berlin had. She was young and pretty with perfect pale breasts and smooth skin, though that was not what Rohaan noticed about her—he did not care for those things yet. But in the way a fire draws the eye, so Rohaan stared at her. Her scales glittered softly in the water-filtered sunlight, her light hair swirled in delicate patterns as though it was flowing in a slow breeze; it caught the light and gave her a sort of glow. Her eyes were gently curious and her voice as cool and clear as spring dew, like cool hands on flushed skin.

She asked him a question and something inside of him burned to answer, even though typically he would have snarled and snapped at any stranger bold enough to approach him AND ask personal questions. His great tentacles fanned out around him almost like her hair; elegant in a more rustic sort of way. The ends of them, which had been lashing and grabbing and crushing and dropping earlier, were now gently curled this way and that.

“I’m angry at a lot of things,” was his quick answer, the one he would have given to anyone. But almost unbidden, more began to pour out of him. Things he didn’t even know or realize himself. “No...not angry. I mean, yeah. Angry. But mostly scared.” This was more than even Berlin on a good day would be able to get out of him. His skin had stopped pulsating an angry red and was now a cool brownish gray to match the rock he anchored himself to. “I’ve been hurt a lot and I don’t want to be hurt anymore. Especially not by...” he genuinely searched for the word. To call Berlin his friend was making light of it. “My...family,” he decided. Words kept pouring out of him. “I have a lot of enemies. So...my family is important. If they hurt me too, I...don’t know what I’d do. My real family is gone and they’re the only people who have ever cared about me or been kind. I don’t have anything else.”

The desperation in his tone as clear, sharp, and painful to hear. If he’d been in his own shape, he might have cried a little, as the Mermaid’s presence was like a poultice that drew out poison form a wound. Though he wasn’t aware of it now, he would be glad he did not, later. Everything about the exchange was uncharacteristic of him. He did not open up or even take kindly to strangers—he had absolutely no reason to believe that anyone out there had his best interest in mind and always assumed they did not. What was more, he did not discuss deep fears and anxieties with anyone except for Berlin, and even then it would be vague allusions only brought out after serious coaxing by a man who had a magical ability to charm and put others at ease. And yet, he was doing the equivalent of tearing his clothes in a public square, there under the waves where he knew he had always been safe. She tore down the hard-won walls of his inner fortress with only a look and a gentle word.

Hana hid her surprise about Uban's honesty by stripping nearby pine trees of their green needles. She couldn't imagine anyone admitting ignorance in Elbar, and most of the clients she'd had across the continent were like to argue with her over peasant superstition. "Are all the people from your community so humble?" She let herself imagine an arcadia with honest folk, free from strife. A place like that would be far from the reach of the Schools. Hana walked behind Uban as they went back for food. Her head was down, and she'd crouch quickly to unearth a particular mushroom, or uproot a bulb or tuber growing nearby. Foraging was a good way to stretch the meager budget of a traveling hedgemage. Hana was glad to have tucked a kerchief in her back pocket, it quickly filled up with edible mushrooms and tubers. When she saw the hunched posture of the Captain, she had wanted to rush to his side. But, hearing Uban, she made herself turn away and head towards the ship. Lightly, she said, "You know, I visited a spice merchant before I joined the Borealis. With what I just gathered in the forest, I think I can make something pleasant." Swinging her hip so it bumped into Uban's, throwing him off balance, she added, "And a bottle of Elbish wine."

---
The mermaid spun in the water as it listened to the octopus talk. "Come pet my tail. The scales are soft. Feel."

“Humble..?” The word caught Uban off guard for a moment, as if he hadn’t ever pinned that word to himself in any capacity. But with a moment’s thought, he seemed to accept the notion, then snorted derisively. “In Oak Hill? No. Unata as a whole is a kind of...err...rustic kingdom, as they go. But it’s got its urban spots and they got schools for learned folk. Nothing like yours, of course. But Oak Hill is very far from all that. We’re a simple folk. But that doesn’t make a man humble.” Uban gave a humorless chuckle. “Ho no. To be honest, i wasn’t always humble, myself. After all, humble men don’t get into deadly barfights over women and honor and pissing contests.” He smiled. And without a hint of self consciousness he continued, “Being locked in a stone box for two years changes your perspective on things though. Gives you a lot of time for thinking about your life, and once the shock of everything wears away, you start asking questions of the world. Wondering where stars came from or what draws the tides in and out. Those are not questions a farmer asks. He is too busy plowing his fields and feeding his livestock.”

Uban gave an easy shrug and an even easier smile. “I did find answers to a lot of those questions since I met Berlin. And pretty soon, once you see the world, you begin to realize how small you are. And if I don’t know about erm...particles in the air, well...” another shrug. “Not like it’s any fault of mine. I grew up a farmer. What was I supposed to do? Teach myself to read instead of doing my chores?” He looked at her, an almost childlike honesty in his still slightly gold-toned green eyes. “Lemme tell you, I done me a fair share of bemoaning my life and the choices I’ve made, stewing on the regrets I have. I have borne my shame until I simply learned to abandon it altogether. What’s left is quite nice, actually.” Another easy smile. Uban smiled so often and so quickly, it was almost like a reflex for him. Yet not one of them seemed disingenuous.

Uban helped her gather food as they stalked through the forest. He peeled out of his shirt and used it like a sack, filling it with mushrooms, tubers, and some chance herbs. This once more exposed his scars and his one crudely done tattoo to the open air, making him look more hard around the edges than he usually did. Hana bumped him and he staggered, laughing. “Elbari wine, you say! I ain’t never been to Elbar or had their wine, you’ll have to enlighten me.” His grin was devilish. “Is it strong?” He asked hopefully.

—-

Rohaan watched the sway of her hair in the soft, undulating current like a child dazedly watching a smooth pendulum. Back and forth. Back and forth. It spread around her like his own tentacles did around his soft body, swishing around gently.

Distantly, Rohaan recalled swinging from a hammock between two palm trees, sturdy and steadfast as mountain peaks. A fresh salty breeze cooled his skin and tickled the palm fronds above him to make a light hissing that sang in harmony with the lapping waves. A little bell chimed with each gust, the windchime adding its clear peals to the symphony. And somewhere nearby there was the sound of a woman humming, and of a man splitting wood.

He suddenly felt very drowsy. He could have easily have dozed off, anchored to a rock only by a set of suction cups on one tentacle, but she spoke again and her musical tone snapped him back into awareness. She had a lovely voice, like the sound a flower would make if it could sing.

She invited him to come touch her glimmering tail, and he found himself wanting to dearly. He did not approach strangers, let alone make physical contact if he could help it, though that didn’t seem to apply here. He knew also that octopus tentacles were marvelous for grabbing, but not for feeling. He wanted to know the true nature of how those smooth, glittering scales felt, so he reverted to his natural form and swam comfortably and easily to her. Rohaan had free-dived since he was a babe, so his ability to hold his breath was exceptional. Still, even he needed to breathe and so when he needed to, he shifted briefly to an octopus again to take a few breaths, then back again.

Rohaan’s blonde curls splayed about his head like hers, though his was shorter, wilder, and far less elegant. Without much hesitation, he reached out and petted her scales like one would the velvety nose of a horse. She was right. They were soft, not like he’d expected them to be at all. As he stroked them, he asked, “What’s your name? Mine is Rohaan.” If that was not proof of a mermaid’s mystical powers, then nothing was. Rohaan did not give his second name to any stranger. Even a crew member like Hana. Yet she had earned it in the space of a second.

Uban stripped off his shirt, and Hana politely avoided staring at the way the muscles rolled underneath his weathered skin, or how deftly his fingers worked as he unearthed a tuber to place in his improvised sack. It wasn't too hard so long as she focused on foraging as they spoke.

"I have borne my shame until I simply learned to abandon it altogether. What’s left is quite nice, actually.” Hana flushed and bent her head, avoiding his kindly gaze. "That's.. I uh, That's good." There was a silence after that, as Hana tried and failed to speak again. It was only after they had left the shade of the forest did she lighten up. "There are some wines that are as light and refreshing as water," she began, smiling as she watched Uban's reaction, "But unfortunately, the only varieties I could find were soldier wines. Those are the ones that are meant to be watered down, but taste best if you don't." She laughed and walked with him to the Borealis

---

The mermaid watched the boy touch her scales, the tips of her tail twitching slightly. She didn't seem to hear his question, and absently braided a strand of her hair. The boy didn't realize that the conversation had stopped fully. The scales glimmered, moving colors in a way that took his focus, patterns that would tell him what he wanted to know most, if only he could stare longer.

"I'm going to leave now. Goodbye." The mermaid twisted elegantly, achingly, away, and swam into the darkening gloom of the ocean depths. The thought of following her never crossed his mind.

If Uban wasn't mistaken, Hana seemed slightly reserved as they stalked through the forest and chatted. Maybe reserved wasn't the right word. Embarrassed? Cold? Distracted? He couldn't put a finger on it exactly, but he was sure there was something there. Despite this, he did not press. After all, she was still new to them and he knew that not everyone was so open as he was about their life. So he let it go and didn't let it trouble him anymore."

"Soldier's wine, meant to be diluted? Oh, pity..." he said with mock disappointment. "Alas, whatever will this pirate do?" He flashed a grin and dumped his gatherings by the fire for her to use as she saw fit. Uban could fry bacon and was a master at butchering an animal, but he was a sore cook. A cool breeze wafted through and as Uban shivered slightly, he put his shirt back over his head. "I'm a truly miserable cook, but I can chop things," he said, pulling a knife from his belt and using it to slice the vegetables into a large pot. As he worked, he hummed to himself, but then he began to sing softly:

"Buried under my feet is a man I did meet
tally roo ta dai roo aah ayy!
He sullied my name so I put him to sleep
tally too ta dai roo aah ayy!

Buried under Oak Hill is a feller I killed
tally roo ta dai roo aah ayy!
I opened his throat for he looked at me ill
tally roo ta dai roo aah ayy!

Uban looked up at her with a shit-eating grin like he'd just told some great joke. "I wrote that in prison. The other inmates thought it was great fun, and a few of them would add their own verses, though I can't recall any of those."

Berlin and Pieter shuffled over then, the Captain with a drawn, sullen look on his face as he smoked his pipe. Berlin sat down, eying Uban. "You telling her the story of how you lost your finger?"
"No!" Uban said with a small laugh. "And so what if I was, anyway?"
"He's got a different tale for each person who asks," Berlin explained, his tone dry and distant, though there was a hint of humor there.
"I'll admit to nothing," the younger man said, though he was trying (and failing) to stifle a smile.

Uban studied Pieter and Berlin quietly for a moment before asking softly, "So...what's the matter?"
Berlin did not ask what made him guess something was amiss, he simply said, "Mm, you two missed it, that's right. Good news is I narrowly avoided a brawl between Rheoaan and Wheel. The bad news is I severely wounded Rheoaan's trust in me."
Uban, knowing, cringed a little. "How bad?"
"I won't know for sure till he comes back, but if you'd like to ask him, he's at the bottom of the damn ocean. And Wheel...you seen him? He's got thick skin in more ways than one, but he was no doubt irritated." Berlin sighed, then in a very informal tone he muttered, "Someone tell me we've got alcohol somewhere."

--

Rohaan watched the glimmering scales sparkle green in the sunlight (or was it blue..? Purple?) and once again felt himself drawn in. Not that he was thinking of it at the moment, but he could understand after this experience how even the most wary of sailors could be lured to their deaths by mermaids. He didn't blame them, either. But then she spoke and it snapped him out of his reverie, and he looked up just as she flowed away into the wide blue, her radiant hair streaking behind her like a furling banner.

And then she was gone.

Rohaan floated there for a few moments, watching where she'd gone before he even bothered to look at his quiet surroundings. They felt even quieter now without her there. Suddenly, he felt the ocean's chill as if for the first time and thought it might be nice to sit by a fire. He was blissfully drowsy, after all. So he skillfully surfaced, and after wiping his curls from off his face, he swam ashore. By the time he came close enough to see the expressions of his crewmates seated around the fire, he noticed Berlin's looked particularly tight and anxious. Rohaan didn't know it, but Berlin had expected him back at least two hours ago and had grown more worried and fretful as each additional hour passed. Rohaan looked up at the sky to find stars. Somehow that seemed darker than he thought it ought to have been, but it didn't trouble him.

The boy stepped into the firelight and found a place to sit beside Pieter. "I'm hungry. Is there food?" Was all he said to announce himself. Quite neutrally, Uban handed him some. Berlin (who released a great deal of his tension as soon as he saw him) was watching him, studying him, trying to gauge how best to proceed. He knew they had to air the issue, but he didn't want to force it either if the time wasn't right. Berlin thought that even as long as it had been, he was remarkably relaxed. He expected him to be sour and cold, but not quite so calm and cool as this. Briefly, he glanced to Pieter as if to say 'what did you do?'.

"Rheoaan..." Berlin began slowly, softly, like one would speak to a startled wild animal. "Will you come walk with me?"
Rohaan considered for a long while, then eventually took a final bite of food and stood, nodding. "Te."
Berlin was quietly relieved at his willingness to re-engage, but he made no sign of it. He led the boy along the beach, their toes occasionally slapping onto muddy, wet sand or were licked by the far reaches of broken waves. Where was he going to start...? How? He took a deep breath and tried, "You were gone an awful long time. You had me worried. Can I ask where you went?"
Rohaan blinked. "I was not. I was gone for only a little bit. Like maybe twenty minutes."
Berlin stared at him, concern written openly on his face. "No, Rheoaan. It's been hours. Don't you see the sky? It was afternoon when you left."
"Was it..?" He hadn't considered it, really. It hadn't mattered. He shrugged it off. "I didn't go nowhere. Just the reef."

Berlin had guessed when Pieter had gone off that he'd done something, and asking a favor of a mermaid was somewhere on that list of possibilities, but Berlin hadn't really thought that was the case. "Stars above.." he muttered. But he was strangely fortunate, and he didn't doubt that Pieter knew what he was doing when he asked a creature with powerful allure and a distracting nature to go find him. Rohaan was calm. He was not the skittish, feral creature Berlin expected him to be, and this would make things much easier. "You know I'm sorry, right?" When Rohaan looked up at him with a sort of dubious expression, Berlin continued, "I am. Truly. I never meant to do that. You know me. You know I wouldn't."
With an injured tone, Rohaan asked, "Then why did you?"

Whatever reply Berlin thought he had at the ready came out in a deflated sigh. The question was direct and both sought understanding and was accusatory at the same time. He deserved that, he supposed. "I...I guess I was scared. And so I did it without realizing what I was doing until after I'd done it."
"You were scared?"
Berlin almost gave a laugh, but he held it in. "Yes! Old men like me are scared sometimes too. Everyone has something. I fear seeing the two of you tear each other apart, or the rest of us in your attempt. I panicked, and I'm truly sorry. Will you forgive me?"

Rohaan considered it for a long, long moment. Long enough to make Berlin sweat. But finally the boy sighed and said, "Yeah, I guess so. I'm still kinda mad at you though. Just a little."
The man nodded, hiding a small smile. "I deserve that."

The two walked and talked for a long while, and Rohaan told him of the mermaid he met beneath the waves with a kind of reverent awe. They talked of the day's training, and of the mission ahead of them. And finally, Berlin coaxed him to tell the full story of his brush with the Barizians two years ago. It was a heartbreaking tale; if it weren't for Berlin's naturally cool and impassive demeanor, he might have been much more visibly distraught. But he saved that for himself for later where he could process the gravity of it. It explained some things, and not for the first time Berlin was glad that he'd been the one to find him. Berlin knew that those hurts could callous over into bitterness, and bitterness into hate. Rohaan would always hate the Barizians and that was just fine by Berlin. But if that had been his first real encounter with humans, and if he'd been left to his own devices (assuming he survived) the combination of power and hate would form a true monster, one that would give truth to all the tales told about vokurians and their horror.

Not this one, he thought.

The moon was very high when they returned, and though the tension between them seemed to have faded, Rohaan still wanted his space for the night. Berlin understood this without question and simply sat down beside Pieter with one arched eyebrow and whispered, "Mermaids..?" His tone was mockingly reproachful, but his eyes, his true and honest eyes showed thankfulness. That had been far easier than he expected.

Rohaan sat beside Uban and with the man as a buffer between them, he occasionally snuck glances over him at Hana. He did not feel in the mood to engage tonight, but there was a lot to be learned from watching.

The awkwardness passed, and after quickly ducking into the Borealis to retrieve some supplies from the pantry, she settled in to cook. Uban prepared the vegetables and Hana went to work. After readying the fire pit they'd made, Hana muttered and flicked her wrist. A crackling fire rewarded her magic, and she let the water start to boil as readied the boar meat. It had all been cooked to keep from spoiling, so Hana marinated strips of the meat in wine and spices. She'd learned how to cook as a hedge mage, first out of necessity, then to try and compete with her traveling partners. Those had been good times, those early evenings with cooking fires and happy inebriation. Some of her traveling partners had been on the road a long time, and they showed her how much a bottle of soldier's wine could do when cooking outdoors.
Uban sang with a beautiful voice, and Hana listened as she added barley to the boiling water. "When did you start to sing?" She asked.
By the time Pieter and the Captain joined them, the soup was nearly, and they had gone through a bottle and a half of the wine. Half a bottle into the soup, and the rest between Hana and Uban.
Hana was laughing, listening and swapping stories. The stories she told were from her time on the Continent, including the (only slightly embellished) one with the miller, the miller's wife, and the egg eating horse.
She quieted as she saw the drawn look on the Captain's face as he sat to join them.
As they spoke, Hana noticed that Pieter was serene. His posture was relaxed and he smiled pleasantly at her when she looked at him.

---
Hana was confused as she looked between Berlin and Pieter. She was relaxed, and Pieter noticed the open bottle propped up by Hana's feet. He also noticed the empty bottle behind Uban. "Aye, Captain. Looks like we've got ourselves something a bit heartier than rum." Taking the bottle and smelling it, a contended sigh came from the old sailor. "Awh, this is the kinda stuff you find when you're on the other side of the Horn. Cheaper than water, in some ports." He chuckled, "Those were some towns."

When Rohaan wearily joined them, Pieter moved, letting the boy sit next to Berlin. He positioned himself so that he could listen in on Berlin and the boy, pay attention to what Hana and Uban were getting up to, and keep an eye out in the darkness. This happened without acknowledgment, and he enjoyed the awareness he had of his crew. Hana and Uban wisely gave the Captain and Ro space, enjoying the others company, and the strong wine. He hadn't thought Hana would buy this kind of wine, but then again, she was a pretty smart lady.

Much of his silence came from the fact that deep down, Pieter was very relieved to see Rohaan unharmed. These were gentle waters, and the cruelest thing a mermaid here would do is break a sailors heart. And while he wasn't concerned about Ro falling in love, he'd been concerned with how long he'd stayed under. It'd be easier to work their charm on someone in the water with them, especially if he can't drown. Ha! That'd annoy some mermaids to no end.

Wheel silently joined them, wordlessly taking a bowl of soup for himself and settling to sit near Hana and Uban, on the other side of Rohaan. The berserker was calm, and if anyone noticed his bloody knuckles, or the scratches that ran up and down his arm, they didn't mention it. He was reserved, speaking only when addressed. If there was any anger carried over from earlier, it didn't show. Pieter saw him smile thinly at the jokes Uban made.

The night carried on, and the world outside the warm campfire seemed far away.

Uban gave a little shrug and a light laugh. "When? Oh, I just...I don't know. Did. I used to sit out in the pasture with the sheep and entertain myself with singing and eventually the lute. But I think my mum's to blame for that." He winked. "Da's a drunken bastard who never liked me much. But my two sisters are his pride and joy. He'd sooner hit me than sing to me. But not mum. She always hummed whenever she cooked, or would sing us to sleep when we were really little. Encouraged the habit in me, I guess. And it's just...something I do. Did you know, there's all sorts of different versions of sea shanties, depending on the region or even the specific crew? The bones of 'em are the same, but details like words and rhythm change a bit. I find that really neat." He'd had quite a bit to drink by this point, though he had an incredibly high tolerance for a man of his size. Still, he spoke a little louder and his nose was red. "You said you play the harp, I'd love to hear you sometime. Maybe you and me could do a duet one of these days in some tavern, yeah? I can ask Rohaan to get you a little half-harp. I'm not sure how he does it, but he's a remarkable thief for his age."

Berlin smiled at this. "I'd like to say I taught him what he knows, but that ain't true. Half, he comes by naturally. The other bit Pieter and I coached him on, and I've got to say, he's really come along." The way Berlin talked about it, it seemed like he was telling them all about Rohaan's new skill in art, or in wood whittling or cooking--something respectable--and not thievery. There was not a drop of disapproval in the Captain's tone, either. Berlin did not have the love for blood that some other pirates had, nor even the penchant for all manners of debauchery (only a few suited his tastes). He was a con-artist, deep down, and he loved a good challenge and an even better haul. Which is why he left small merchant ships alone, or whaling boats--the prize wasn't worth the effort.

The night sky deepened and the moon rose. Uban was now quite firmly drunk and could no longer sit up exactly straight in his seat by the fire. Once, he had attempted a song on his lute, but as drunk as he was, he couldn't chord with his whole, right hand very well, and the four-fingered left one was near useless. So after a miserable stumble through of a song punctuated by many sour chords and a following "Damn!", he put it away. Instead, he began to drunkenly howl,

"My husband's a farmer, a farmer, a farmer
a very fine farmer is he!
all day he plows fields, plows fields he plows fields
and at night he comes home and plows meeee!"

And in a surprising turn of events, Berlin picked up the following verse. His voice was softer than Uban's, quieter. Supressing a grin he added,

"My husband's a carpenter, a carpenter, a carpenter
a very fine carpenter is he!
All day he pounds nails, pounds nails, he pounds nails
and at night he comes home and pounds me!"

Clearly, Uban thought the Captain to be quite above singing bawdy tavern tunes and this rare moment was of great surprise to him, as he suddenly gave up the song and burst into laughter so hard that he wheezed a little, and the corners of his eyes sparkled wetly in the firelight.
"I don't get it," Rohaan chimed. "Pounds...that's...this, right?" he punched one fist into his open hand.
"It's got two meanings, Rheoaan," Berlin explained when no one else seemed keen to volunteer for that explanation. "One of them is that, yes. The other is sex," Berlin told him quite plainly and without any dithering or hesitation.
"Oh," Rohaan answered simply with a now disinterested shrug. Even understanding the words, he still didn't get the joke.

Rohaan watched Hana for a bit through the firelight, studying her with eyes that almost gave the impression of being luminous in the dim light on account of their bright and vibrant color. He still wasn't sure what to make of her, yet. And he did not look at Wheel. He was irritated with him of course, but the hurt from Berlin ran far deeper than anything Wheel said to him. He'd been riled up, then, and Rohaan could deal with being shouted at, or even batted around a bit. But trust was a fragile thing. Tiring of studying Hana, he rose and sat himself beside Pieter, looking almost reverently at the thin, inked man. "Pieter, I forgot to tell you!" Very importantly, he said, "I saw a mermaid today! She was nice, she even let me touch her scales." Of course, he had no idea that Pieter was the one who called her to him in the first place. Rohaan liked Pieter, and very much liked to impress him, or at least to feel he had. "I wonder...do you think I could turn into one if I tried...?"

Berlin shot a look at his mate that said speaking of... and then glanced over at a very well-sauced Uban, who was grinning stupidly and loosely attempting to put down more food, though he would get distracted after a bite or two and the bowl ended up sitting in his lap more than anything. "Rheoaan," he said rather pointedly. "You should get to sleep. It's late, and we have a lot to do tomorrow."

Rohaan was not happy to hear this at all. Berlin did not often order him off to bed, and frankly, Rohaan didn't feel much like sleeping at the moment. Not when others were still up. There was a split second between them in which Rohaan looked like he might protest, and Berlin looked like he'd have a counter argument at the ready, but an impish glimmer came into the boy's eyes and, deftly outsmarting his Captain, he said, "But...what if I ask Hana to read to me?"
Berlin sighed in defeat. "Well it won't do you any good asking ME, will it?"
Rohaan padded over to her, scuffling the soft sand between his toes "Ha--um, Miss Seuville..."

The sudden formality and politeness was so shocking to Berlin (who had not known that Rohaan agreed to calling her that while doing lessons) that he actually choked a little on his mouthful of wine and narrowly avoided spitting it into the fire. Berlin looked to Pieter and whispered in a very quiet tone, "Pieter, mate, stars above! You broke him!" There was concern on his face but it was betrayed by the jovial glimmer in his tone; he was trying not to laugh.

Uncharacteristically nervously, Rohaan continued, only glancing up into her eyes for a second at a time as though he had not spent the entire evening staring at her. "You got your book with you...? The one you were reading me earlier? Could...maybe you could read me some tonight?"

Wheel sat quietly and watched Uban get progressively more destroyed. There were more nights than Wheel could count that he'd joined in, but tonight wasn't one of them. Wheel nursed a mug of the soldier's wine as he ate his dinner. Other than the cursory attention he paid to the conversation, Wheel was occupied with his thoughts. He'd have to see how Uban was using his lightning, he'd have to see if Hana could work magic if she was being shot at. Pieter and the Cap'n were ready- though if he had his way, Berlin would work down some of the gut that was starting to appear. The kid.

The kid.

There are some things in life that you take for granted. The sun rises in the east, sets in the west. The armor on a gendarme would withstand shot. The kid would be dead in 20 years if he didn't know how to fight. And for once- for goddamn once- Wheel thought it'd do some good if he could teach the kid. Teeth and claws didn't last long against steel and shot.

Hana looked happy. That was nice, Wheel guessed. The curse was twisting around him right now, and everything in his periphery had faded to black. His stomach was unpleasantly full and ravenous. He considered going to vomit, but he knew that a full stomach helped keep the curse from it's full extent. There were times when it was alive, and would punish and reward him. Tonight it was unthinking, a burden that was slowly taking everything he had.

Uban had started singing- one of those tavern rounds that peasants loved when their wives weren't around. Wheel remembered a few stanzas from this song- or one close enough to it that it didn't matter much. He opened his mouth and belched. Closing his eyes, he listened as Uban tried to ply Hana into playing music with him, and pretended he was back in Tyrohl. It had been hard- but the hardness was what made it easy. Once you have the hang of it, cruelty is a very simple thing. Wheel was taught to be cruel early on, but the Borealis was different. Berlin didn't lead with cruelty. And it worked most of the time, Wheel admitted that. It just meant that the cruelty that did happen was shocking.

Wheel watched as the boy went to Pieter, asking him about mermaids. The priest took the pipe out of his mouth to answer, "How did her scales feel, lad? I figure you can grow a tail no trouble, and get the hair to boot. But that's not a mermaid, not really. They're not animals, and they're not people. They're mermaids, and that makes em different to the rest of the world."

Wheel had almost bought a stuffed mermaid tail in Tyrohl. It was fake, but he hadn't known it at the time. Fucking merchants.

The kid went to Hana, begging for story time. Wheel got up to leave, heading to the small tent he'd put up to sleep. It'd been a hell of a day, and the next one was right around the corner. The last thing he heard as he laid his head on the coil of rope that served as a pillow was Hana's voice speaking slow and soft.

---

Wheel had gone to bed without a scene. Hana had begun to read to the lad, and Uban was piss drunk. "Well. No time like the present," he stood up, wiping his hands on his trousers, "I've already got rope and vinegar with me, so we don't need to make any stops. Come along, Uban." Pieter helped him up, and gently yet firmly guided Uban to the shore, into the darkness.

Pieter smiled down at the boy and asked him how the scales felt, and Rohaan wasn't entirely sure how to answer. Except an answer did come, sort of unbidden as he blurted out, "Like soft warm sand on a breezy beach and smooth, cool glass and the velvet of a horse's nose, all at once!" and though he seemed surprised by his own answer, on further inspection he found that in a way, it was accurate. Actually, he couldn't think of what it honestly felt like, not in a physical, empirical sense. But he knew how it made him feel--that he knew quite clearly.

He tried to think about something being neither human nor animal, and obviously not a plant. He wasn't sure what he thought about that idea, and it troubled him a bit, though he couldn't place why. And then, screwing up his face in concentration, he attempted to shift into one. And in a way, he did. It was much like Pieter described--he looked like one, but he lacked any of her presence. The tail was a dark inky blue that shone greenish in the right flicker of light, and his skin had gone from suntanned to creamy and smooth with jet hair that tumbled down in elegant waves over his chest. He was perfectly feminine, and in no way did this seem to offend his usually very masculine natural self. "Huh." he said, his voice high and smooth and girlish, though it was not as musical as any real mermaid's might feel. But he released the form after only a few moments, as it was a little uncomfortable being a water creature on dry land. And then in an instant he was small, dirty, and boyish again.

"Damn!" barked Uban, still staring at him. "I didn't know you could do that!"
Rohaan blinked. "Do what?"
"Be a...well, be a girl."
Rohaan's gaze was confused, like the answer to this was obvious. "Why couldn't I be? I can change into near anything."
Uban gave a slow nod, though he was still wrestling with this idea. "Can you have a baby...?"
Rohaan actually laughed. "No! That ain't how it works. Go back to drinking, Uban, you're better at that," the boy riffed.

---

Hana read to Rohaan by firelight and though he kept his distance at first, his attention was fixed on her mouth as it moved and formed words. He wasn't so much in the mood to peer over her shoulder at the book and to try and figure out which words she was saying, and he only asked for the meaning of a word occasionally if it was crucial to comprehension of the story itself. Generally, he was less inquisitive this time and more content to listen and let his mind color in the imagery. They did this for a while, but within half an hour Rohaan began to nod as the physically rigorous and emotionally draining day finally took hold of him. The boy fell asleep lying near Hana's feet, sprawled out in the sand like it had been his bed for all his life.

Uban, meanwhile, had been sitting with a dopey smile on his face, staring off at what appeared to be nothing in particular, thoughts bumbling clumsily around in his head. Pieter called for him and he snapped to attention (albeit with a bit of a lag) and allowed himself to be helped up as he shrugged and agreed, "okay!" and marched off with Pieter as assuredly as if it had been his idea to go. It took him until they got at least ten feet from the campsite for him to wonder absently, "Where are we going, anyway?" he craned his head back to look at Pieter, realizing that it was much darker and cooler away from the fire. And as he caught sight of Pieter's face and the rope he now had, Uban stopped walking, swaying just a little as a frown formed on his face. "Pieter..." he began cautiously. "What are we doing out here...?" He kept eyeing the rope, then his face, then back to the rope again.

--

Berlin, with the rest of the crew either occupied or turned in for the night, had a few moments truly to himself--a rare thing indeed. So with his pipe clenched in his teeth and a cup of wine in one hand, he strolled along the beach with nothing but the moon for company, allowing the water to lap up over his feet despite the chill. He'd been impressed with the state of his crew today, and though he didn't get to really study Hana's fighting ability, from what he'd seen, she and Uban would work well together. And he, like everyone else, was curious as to what else she was capable of. He also thought about he and Wheel coming up with a strategy for their strike...assuming they could find them again.

Berlin knew they needed time to prepare, but the time not spent pursuing them gave him a knot of anxiety in his chest. This was one target he desperately wanted, and he'd go to great lengths to get it. Would there be survivors? And what sort of state would they be in? If he could save any, he would, and part of their plan ought to account for any prisoners down in the hold. As much as he wanted to burn the ship down and let the sea take it, he did not want to take innocent lives if he could help it. If there was a choice between having casualties and letting his prize get away, he knew what he would do, and the tiny pang of guilt he felt about it was snuffed quickly. He was resolute in this. The Barizians would burn.

Berlin meandered back towards camp, finding Uban and Pieter still gone, Wheel still retired for the night, and Rohaan out cold in the sand. Seeing this, he uttered a tiny singular chuckle and found the boy's cloak, throwing it over him before stoking the fire a bit. Berlin sat back, wondering how Uban was doing. Poor sap, he had no idea what he was in for when they'd left and it would hit him hard. Not unpleasantly perhaps, but hard all the same.

"Thomond, son of Surond, struck the guardsman, and fell into the fray. And although the guardsmen were many, Thomond and his knights drove them off, winning the tower for themselves. They had succeeded in rescuing Giselle, but the sly King of Cats, Tybalt, surrounded the tower with soldiers and wretched mantygers. Thomond's knights spoke among themselves, and grew fearful. They lamented how far from home they were, and grew afraid they would never see home again. At this time Giselle rallied the men, reminding the brave sons of Mide of their holy task. Hearing the chosen of Midel speak, the knights were stirred to glory, and readied their arms once more."

Hana sighed, closing the book, "I think that's enough for tonight, don't you? What do you think of Thomond? He's following the wishes of Midel, yet it's cost him so much." Glancing down, she saw that her pupil had fallen asleep. She had been worried the entire time he'd been gone, a quiet concern that she'd hid. Hana knew little about mermaids, beyond the stories told by explorers, Elbar had little knowledge of mermaids. That the boy the boy was unharmed surprised her. She'd thought mermaids dragged tricked sailors underwater. Rio could just turn into a fish. The things that boy could do continued to surprise her. He was borderline feral, but he had heart. And if an ancient epic could inspire him to read, so be it. The fire had ran down, and the Captain had gone on a stroll, enjoying the night air.

Letting the boy lay where he was, Hana carefully extracted herself from the log she had sat on. She was careful not to wake the boy. The stars were out, circling overhead, and she could make her way easily to the canvas tent that she'd used on the trail. It wasn't the prettiest, but it was well made and she'd enchanted it to make it comfortable. The underappreciated side of magic was how much easier it made life. She'd already worked waterproofing into the other tents, and had decided she was going to try and enchant the bugs off the Borealis. Her last thoughts as she drifted off were about the spells she'd bring up to the Captain.

---

Pieter whistled as he guided Uban down to the shore. Though the moon was out, Pieter carried a lamp with him. Noticing the growing concern on Uban's face, he said, "Don't worry, Ubey. Just going for a spot of fun." With cheerful determination, he led Uban away from the safety of the camp and towards the chilly waters. They navigated a rocky path down to the shore. Uban had grown silent, driven by loyalty and trust to the old sailor. The beach was a scrap of sand filled with driftwood and rotting seaweed. A crumbling cliff wall lined the beach, pines clinging to the soil. The water was still, waves brought up by the wind lapping and bumping into the debris. A cold wind went through them, and Pieter shivered as he crunched across the sand to a suitably heavy stump. Setting the lamp on the stump, he turned to Uban, his face flickering in the lamplight, "We're going to meet mermaids now, and I'd like you to tie this rope around your waist."

"Oh..." Any concern in Uban's tone was wiped away in a drunken instant. Uban, for the most part, was a trusting individual and Pieter had yet to lead him astray. Besides, if he was honest with himself, he was very pleased that Pieter, whatever his reasons, had wanted to do something with him. Uban's father was still alive (or so he guessed) but had never been much of a father to him when Uban was still around. The man easily considered Pieter to be a far better, more reliable role model than his blood relative had ever been and deep down, he wanted very much for the older man to like him. So he didn't give any more resistance after that and plodded along obediently after him, through the trees and down to the lapping water's edge.

Mermaids! He thought as he took the rope from the thin man. He had always wanted to see one and frankly had been quite jealous that Rohaan had gotten to experience one apparently very up-close that night. And now he was going to! Even through the haze the wine put on his brain, Uban guessed this was something of initiation into priesthood, or at least a first step. Suddenly, he became full of a not wholly unpleasant nervous energy. He would not be the same after tonight, he thought. Uban racked his brain to think of what he knew about mermaids. According to Rohaan, they apparently had very soft scales, smooth and pleasant to the touch. And he knew both that they generally had tits to make any bar wench jealous, and that they were often responsible for sailor's deaths. He had heard tales of unwary men being lured into the water by their charm and thought for sure if he was ready for them, he wouldn't be one of those unlucky men.

"I know about mermaids, or enough to know not to go diving in after them," he assured Pieter. "I don't need a rope, trust me!" Yet he was telling him this while expertly tying a secure bowline knot around his waist. Whatever his drunken brain thought, his instinct had not been addled so much that it lay quiet and he knew better than to truly argue with Pieter about this, for the precaution was wise. "What do I do when I meet them? Is there something polite I say to them? Something I shouldn't say?"

The lad trusted him- that was good. Pieter'd have to work to keep that trust. Pieter had emptied the bottle of vinegar into the sea while Uban rambled and tied the rope around his waist. Going to check his knots, Pieter said, "Don't take anything they give you tonight. Don't follow them into the water. This is just an introduction, so ya won't have to say much. Just say hi and stay quiet. Don't worry about staring- there's a reason why I roped ya up. I met a lady earlier today- they're not real busty round these parts, you gotta go further south for that." The ropes were secure- even drunk as hell and in the middle of night, he could tie a knot. A warmth grew in Pieter's heart that had nothing to do with the wine he'd had. "Alright, ropes are fine. Let's get ya out there." Leading Uban to the sea, he stopped where the sea foam hissed around their ankles. Despite the frigidness of the water, Pieter didn't flinch. Holding his lantern high, he called, "Ladies, I've come to talk to you."
A moment of silence followed. Pieter packed his pipe, tapping the bit against his teeth. He glanced at Uban next to him, the thick rope tied around his waist. He looked at the stars for a moments. The Rose was high in the sky tonight, and The Gardener rose not far behind it.
Three women surfaced several meters away from them in the water. Pieter recognized the one on the left- the blonde mermaid with the childlike eyes. Next to her was a woman who could have been her older sister, their hair was the same, but the older sister didn't smile. The final woman was tan, with dark hair rolling down her shoulders in ringlets. Her eyes were kept close, though she acted like she could see the men on the shore. Bare chested, they bobbed in the water, watching the men. Taken singularly, they were lovely, together, they were intoxicating. Pieter puffed on his pipe nonchalantly, grasping the rope in one hand. Addressing them, he said, "Nice night out, huh ladies?"

Right. Uban knew how to be polite, he could say hello without embarrassing himself too much. Even if he was punch drunk. He smiled and nodded as the man poured the vinegar into the sea, his toes already stinging with cold. This, however, was immediately forgotten the moment he saw the play of moonlight on the waters surface change, and his heart leapt with anticipation. The mermaids emerged, their hair silky and smooth looking as it reflected the heavenly lights above, casting an ethereal sheen on them. The only thing he was thinking was that Rohaan had not done them justice. What he had turned into described a mermaid but it did a poor job of really showing one. He couldn’t get over the smooth shimmer they had!

He had to keep calm. This was his first impression and he wanted it to be a good one, so he should just play it safe, open his mouth to say hello and—
“Titties!” He gasped without meaning to, and he immediately clapped his hands over his mouth. He wanted to apologize but he didn’t trust his mouth. But that too was quickly forgotten as his hands left his mouth to begin peeling off his shirt like it irritated him.

“Hello ladies! Lovely evening we’ve got indeed! But not as lovely as you three eh?” Some of his usual charm was showing through the drunken haze even as he tossed his shirt into the water; it hit the surface with a soft slopping sound. “I must say it’s an absolute pleasure to meet you, really.” His hands were scrabbling at his belt, which he eventually undid and flung over his shoulder onto the shore, then his hands worked at the lacing on the front of his pants. Thankfully for his pride, the rope around his waist impeded his progress and he gave up on it, deciding he would just get his pants wet and that would be fine. He’d just go out and get a bit closer, maybe smooth one of their hair and tickle their soft necks with his lips. He took a step forward but made no progress.

Normally, Uban might have looked down to see why this was the case, and why there was a pressure around his waist. But he couldn’t look away. He didn’t want to, either. His hands fumbled and found the rope again, and he realized that he was as far at the end of it as Pieter would allow. “Pieter, I can swim great, lemme go…I won’t be gone long. C’mooonnn….” But when this proved to be futile he turned his full thought back towards the mermaids. They were hardly doing anything and that alone was driving him mad with desire. “Is one of you Tevira? Because damn, you’re gorgeous. Really and truly. You’ve got to be.” When his eyes were closed he had the look of a sleepy, happy, sunbathing cat. When they were open, however, he looked distinctly like a trained hound who’d just spotted a fox.

Pieter lit his pipe, puffing steadily as he watched his apprentice fling his belt off and fumble with his trousers. Heh, he'd been there. More than once. So far, nothing out of the ordinary had happened. The mermaids watched Uban make a fool of himself. The youngest one giggled and whispered to her sister, who coolly watched. The other mermaid, the one with the closed eyes, stayed silent. As mermaids went, these one's certainly weren't the flirtiest. Which, considering how besotted Uban was, was for the best.

The younger sister swam up to Uban, her strong tail flexing, sliding her through the water with shocking ease. She stopped just outside of arms reach, smiling coquettishly. "What's your name?" She asked. Behind them, the older sister flipped her hair and disappeared under the waves. She had taken what she wanted from the meeting. The silent one watched them, unseeing.

Pieter nodded to her, offering his respect. She dipped her head in return, and continued to watch Uban and the young mermaid.

Uban felt like he'd died and gone to heaven. Three gorgeous women were looking at him. At him. And he felt on top of the world for it. He also felt like if he couldn't get closer to them, he would explode. He just wanted to touch their silky hair, or to caress their scales or to feel the press of their petal-soft lips on his... Uban actually gave a very soft whimper at the thought. He'd do anything they asked of him. Anything at all. An--

"What's your name?"

Her voice hit his ears like the most pleasant brick he could fathom. His brain was swimming with the musical sound of it, so much that he neither thought about it nor cared that he blurted out almost immediately, "Uban Taeleth Harriah!" He thought vaguely then that he would have killed a man to hear her say his name back to him. "But you can call me anything you like. Call me and I will come, sweet Tevira. And I'll bring you--" but he was distracted by the younger one moving effortlessly towards him, almost close enough to touch. Of course, he tried. When he failed, he dropped down to his knees like he'd been shot so that he could be more level with her, still straining against his bonds.

Stars above, she smelled good. Good didn't cut it, actually. She smelled like ocean spray and the breeze through tall pines and the earthy scent of hay on a summer's evening and the delicate aroma of wild flowers and honey. "I'll...I'll bring you flowers," he began, thinking at first of gestures women found nice, and then he thought that it was possible she'd never seen flowers up close before, as they were distinctly and exclusively a land thing. "Flowers and exotic sweets--do you like chocolate?--and coffee from distant lands. I'll find it and fetch it for you with a glad heart."

Uban smiled conspiratorially at her and, if it was possible for him to do so, he leaned forward a little more and his voice lowered. "I could give you music, my lady." He was breathing hard, he realized as he caught sight of the mist from his mouth illuminated in the moonlight. He laughed softly, smiling pleasantly and once again looking like a sunbathing cat. "I'm a good hand at the lute, though I haven't got it with me right now but, but I can sing too. Do you sing? I'd give anything to hear your voice sing to me...I'll bet it sounds like water falling, like the sun glittering on the waves, like the gentle kiss of the wind..."

He was pulling so hard against the rope now that it was digging painfully into his skin, though he didn't notice. Tomorrow he'd have a bruise on his hipbones where the rope pressed there, but tonight he'd break those hips just to get close enough to touch her.

Pieter readjusted his grip on the rope, ready to pull Uban away. He was as dopey as a sailor with his first barmaid. He was going on about giving her flowers and chocolate. Well, he certainly knew just how alluring a mermaid was now. " Do you sing? I'd give anything to hear your voice sing to me". The mermaid giggled, smiling coquettishly at the naive sailor. "I'll sing for you. But you need to get closer."

"That's enough of that," Pieter chuckled as he yanked on the rope, doubling Uban over as he was bodily dragged to shore. If the mermaid was upset that she lost her prey, she didn't show it. With a flip of her silky hair, she disappeared under the waves, leaving the night emptier than it had been.

Standing over his apprentice, Pieter puffed on his pipe and asked, "Well? What do you think of mermaids?"

Closer. Oh, if only he could...Uban strained even harder against his bonds, giving Pieter's grip a run for its money. "Sure, I can--ooof!" But Pieter, though he was a wiry old salt, had muscles like tree roots, old and strong. And Uban felt himself being physically dragged further and further away from the mermaid's beautiful figure. He gave one whimper of protest, and then she was gone. Uban laughed, then, and began to sing, "Farewell and adieu to you pretty ladies...farewell and adieu to you fairest maids..." And he began to laugh again. It started out as a small chuckle and blew up into a wild, fey laughter that made it unclear whether it was a result of their magic or all the wine. Both, probably.

But then he felt his eyes sting a little, and something warm touch his cold cheek. They were gone. They were gone and he felt the absence of them like a knife, cruel and sharp. The world felt cold, loveless, hopeless without them. Without her.

Her.

Uban hadn't meant to, but one last trick of the mermaid's magic made him involuntarily and with painful clarity think of the only woman he ever loved. He thought of the way her hair seemed to light afire in the red sunset as they sat up on the hill where he grazed his sheep, and she would listen to him play, and sometimes, if he played anything recognizable, she would sing the tune that went along side it, and no one was there to disturb the except for the soft bleatings of fat, happy sheep grazing nearby. He thought of her hands and the way they moved, how her slender fingers combed through her horse's hair when she brushed her. The cool touch of them on his arm. He thought of the way she smelled: of good tilled earth and ripe berries, of hay and wildflowers. And worst of all, he saw her face that fateful night. She was at the bar when he'd fought with Garion, and he remembered her screams for both of them to stop. Why hadn't he? Why did he have to keep going? And he saw the horror in her eyes when Garion fell dead to the floor after a flash of bluish light. He had panicked, and she had been the one to yell for the constable. And when they hauled him away, he saw there in her face the most painful disgust and anger he could have ever imagined.

And before he knew it, his laughter had turned to sobs. Pathetic, breath-robbing sobs that only come to the extremely grieved or the very drunk. And his forehead was pressed in the wet sand as he shivered, wet and cold in the darkness at Pieter's feet. When he finally came around, he wiped his face clean of sand and tears and wordlessly retrieved his shirt from the lapping waves and his belt from the sand. He had expected a lot of things with mermaids, but never that. Uban felt thoroughly embarrassed and wouldn't look Pieter in the eye. After all, disappointing him would be a kick in the teeth to Uban.

But after they walked a bit in silence, Uban finally spoke. "Mermaids. Heh. uh, wow. On a scale of one to 'absolute dolt', how much did I make a fool of myself? Y-you know, in comparison to what others go through." He thought for a moment, then added, "How'd Rohaan get away? He wasn't tied. And he got close enough to touch one. Do you think he made a fool of himself? Or is he even old enough for lust yet?" Uban had to laugh at that.

--

After they made it back to camp, Berlin was still sitting by the fire, smoking his pipe and watching the flames with no particular interest, enjoying the silence. As he heard them approach, he smiled. "Well Uban, how did you do?" The younger man looked at him and cringed, and Berlin saw his eyes were still a little red and puffy. Berlin smiled. "Looks like you did about as well as my first time. But they're wonderful, aren't they?"
"Sun and stars, yes! I just hope I remember them tomorrow."
"Oh, you will. No bender can erase what you've seen. C'mon, you should get to bed though. You're a drunken mess." Berlin said this while laughing, clearly finding the whole thing amusing.

Uban couldn't find any argument with this, so he hung up his soaking wet shirt near the fire and went over to Rohaan, who was passed out in the sand. He shook him gently. "Rohaaaaaaan." A small hand fumbled and then shoved his face, but Uban persisted. "Cmon, I'm cold and wet. Turn into something to keep me warm? Pleeeasse?"

There was a soft groan, then Rohaan stirred, shifted to a sable wolf and lay beside Uban with his fluffy head on his chest. With the fire on one side and a wolf on the other, Uban finally began to feel the icy cold that had taken hold of him melt away. He threw his blanket over both of them. "You're a good lad." He received only a wolfish, sleepy groan, and soon the both of them were fast asleep.

Pieter trudged silently up the hill with his apprentice, listening to his tears and guilty, embarrassed attempts to make up for them. After some time, when they were away from the immediate chill of the ocean, and the campfire was only a hopeful promise, he started to speak. His voice was soft, and though it was conversational, it had weight.

"Ya know. When I first met the mermaids- and I was a little younger than you- my priest hadn't bothered to tie a rope to us. He just had us half dozen apprentices gather on the beach at night, and called them up. Two of us drowned that night, we were so enchanted by the mermaids they didn't realize that they had gone so deep into the water the riptide dragged them away. I nearly joined them, only my brother pulled on my hair so hard a patch of it came out and I stopped. They were beautiful, and they owned us. That's what mermaids do, they take sailors hearts, and they're loathe to give them back. They're not natural, not like beasts and men. They belong to something else, something older. I've heard talk that every star in the night sky is a sun like ours, with planets around them. And that the black between the stars is an ocean, and that creatures swim through them. Maybe mermaids swam from the night sky into the ocean here. Or they're just spirits, not as big as gods but just as hungry. They took two sailors that night, and they took four more of us over that next year. My priest wasn't a good man. He had lived through the Yepturn wars as a boy, and life was cheap to him. None of those sailors needed to have died. But he wanted to find priests, and he didn't care enough to save the ones who weren't ready. There are a lot of priests like that, folks who are more concerned about being strong than they are about saving the one's who aren't."

He fell silent for a moment. Clouds drifted over the moon, plunging them into a darkness that seemed deeper than the night of a new moon. He continued, "I wasn't ready. Mermaids, it's their nature to know your weakness. They change the world around them to make you weak. My brother was as weak as me, but he had me to keep him strong. It's a challenge, becoming stronger than mermaids. But you can do it. Exposure and training makes you resistant to their charms."

They had neared the campfire now, and the clouds had moved on. After the darkness, it seemed like the flat around the camp was bathed in a silvery sunlight.

"My brother, he left after a year. He apprenticed at a chandlery, and never went to the waters edge again. He had a good life."

Clapping a hand on Uban's back, he announced, "Well, I think I'll turn in. We've more ahead of us tomorrow, and it'll be good to get an early start."

At that, he left his apprentice and sat with his captain briefly, before going to the tent he shared with Berlin to sleep.

As they walked under the moonlight, Uban merely listened. For one thing, he didn't trust his own voice. For another, he was content to be in silence and just listen to his mentor recount his own first encounter. A sudden rush of fear, like he'd brushed with death and only just realized it, came over him. His eyes, though a little blurry from all the wine, looked at him with some mixture of awe and horror, but then after Pieter finished, he simply said, "Thank you for not letting me drown." It was perhaps the most sincere thing he'd ever said, and not just because he valued his life and didn't want to die. No, Uban had known all along that Pieter would see to it that didn't happen. But he realized now that Pieter could have done it differently and he chose not to. In some way, Uban knew he cared. And that meant more to him than any prize the Borealis could have ever won.

---

Berlin had been last to bed and first to rise the next morning. As time ticked on, he could feel each minute passing in an almost physical way, like each passing moment added to his anxiety and his simmering anger towards what had been done to that little port city. To members of his crew. To countless others out there before and yet to come. Typically Berlin was a bit blasé about attacking other ships--sometimes he would chase one down, other times he'd let one pass depending on his mood and how their supplies were doing (or how bored they were). But there were times when he did more than give chase and delight in the plundering. There were times he wanted blood.

This was one of those times.

Berlin had breakfast ready for the crew. It wasn't anything special--just some oatmeal cooked quickly over the fire. And what gear they'd brought that wasn't actively being used, he'd already loaded and stowed. He didn't have to say anything for the crew to know he was anxious to get underway. He woke Rohaan and Uban, who were still snuggled close beside the fire as man and wolf. Uban, however, was less willing to actually get up, so Rohaan nipped his nose with his pearly wolf teeth gently. That was enough to get a bolt of adrenaline into Uban and truly wake him.

Rohaan could sense the nearness of their impending battle, or at least that they were actively moving towards it and as they boarded and shoved off, the whole thing no longer seemed like something to be done later on. He didn't let this interfere with his duties. In fact, he was more attentive to them than usual because of it--after all, he wasn't sure how he felt about it all and wasn't keen to think about it, so he poured himself into his work instead. But in the moments between he was fidgety and quiet.

Berlin took some time to study his charts a bit before he pulled Pieter aside. He was trying to speak to him in a casual manner as friends, but his mind was clearly not in the right place for that and he had a business air about him. "I want that galley," he told him, tapping the gunnel impatiently as he looked out at the passing water. "But I don't know where they've gone and my ship, she's fast...but they've gotten distance from us now. How am I supposed to find them? I don't feel keen on letting them go..." he said as if preempting a suggestion that he ought to. And when Berlin got the mind to chase a target, he meant it and would not be easily swayed. "But even if I send Rohaan air-scouting day and night...the sea is so wide. I need your intuition, old friend."