[center][hider=Watcher from the Mist]
[hr][i]He was amidst the inky black, once more.

But this time, Sjan-dehk didn’t feel its icy touch chill him to the bone. He didn’t feel its clammy grip mire his movements. He drew in a deep breath, and his lungs filled with…[/i]Something[i]. It didn’t feel soft and light like air. Neither did it drown and choke him like water. It didn’t feel like anything at all; as if it was a fragment of pure nothingness from the void. And it was a void that surrounded him. A dark, featureless sea of opaque blankness that stretched into eternity, and at the same time remained permanent and unchanging. It was ominous in its mystery; eerie in its silence, and disorienting in its emptiness. 

And yet, Sjan-dehk felt naught but calm. There was a strange comfort in this formless chaos. Or perhaps it was formless order? It was impossible to tell, and he didn’t care to. What did it matter? He was safe here, amidst this infinite obscurity. Here, where everything happened at every point in time; here, where nothing ever happened, and would keep never happening, he was at peace. 

“Tsaan-teik, my dear.”

There was that voice again. It had always been there, always whispering, but it had been unclear. Muffled, garbled, like a vague murmur reverberating through the void. Now, however, its dulcet tones were clear in his head. The words were soft, and spoken with soothing gentleness. And still they seemed to fill the void from its countless corners, and to its boundless borders. “Tsaan-teik, Protector of Jafi.” The voice called to him as a mother would sweetly call for her child. Sjan-dehk smiled. Or he thought he did; he didn’t feel his lips move. He didn’t feel any part of himself. The void and he were one and the same.

“Tsaan-teik, open your eyes.”

Were they even closed? Did he even have eyes, here in the inky black? Either way, he didn’t listen. In the darkness, he found peace. In the darkness, he was safe.

“Tsaan-teik, open your eyes.” Louder. The whispers grew louder with each word.

Still, he refused.

“Tsaan-teik.” The voice turned hard. It was still that of a mother’s, but a strict one. A stern one. One whose patience was at an end. One whose commands demanded obedience. “You [/i]will[i] open your eyes.”

And so Sjan-dehk did. He had no choice. The darkness lifted like a veil snatched from his eyes. White light blinded him. A pained cry welled within his chest, but had nowhere to go. Scorching heat seared his flesh, and biting cold numbed his joints. Treacly wetness crept up his legs and down his arms. His body was his once more. His limbs and senses were returned. His mind was returned. And fear grew in his heart. Fear rooted his feet to the soft ground. Fear turned his mouth dry. The peaceful darkness of the inky black was no more. The safety he felt was no more. The comforting void was no more. 

The light subsided. Sjan-dehk’s sight returned. And he wished it hadn’t. 

Crimson clouds, dripping with blood, hung frozen in a burning sky. Shattered hulls and broken masts rose out of the ground like grotesque monuments. Torn flags and ripped sails fluttered from these carcasses in a ghostly wind. Corpses were everywhere. Falling from dead ships. Impaled on splintered wood. Hanging from ropes. They littered the ground. They were the ground. All half-buried in each other. All broken. Some with innards spilling from wounds. Some little more than viscera. Rot blackened their flesh. Flies swarmed them. Writhing maggots crawled from open mouths.

Sjan-dehk wanted to scream. He wanted to run. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t do anything. He could only stand in the middle of everything and stare. Stare at his hands, which were drenched in a never-ending flow of blood. At his feet, which sank deep into the bloated dead. At the sky, which seemed to curve around him. And at empty gazes filled with accusations. [/i]He[i] was their killer. It was [/i]their[i] blood which stained him to the soul. 

“Tsaan-teik, Favoured Child of the Mother.” It was that voice again. Still, it was gentle. Still, it was that of a mother’s soft call. But Sjan-dehk felt its mocking bite. Felt the stab of its barbs. An unseen force turned his attention to a horizon distant and close.

And from there, a ship approached. Swirling, undulating, and ever-changing mists formed its phantom hull; its sails stitched from dense clouds of dark fog. It carved a path through the wreckage and gore. Corpses and flotsam alike were crushed beneath its infernal keel. Once again, Sjan-dehk wanted to run. But still he couldn’t. The ship approached. It left. It came closer. It went farther. It was everywhere. It remained in one spot, frozen like a statue. Sjan-dehk felt the macabre ripples of its wake through the sea of dead. Surely, it would be on top of him soon. And yet, it still looked to be far away.

A figure stood at the ship’s bow. Like their vessel, they were formed from mist. Or shrouded in it. Or simply consumed by it. They were formless. Shapeless. Featureless. And yet Sjan-dehk felt their cutting gaze all the same. Felt their presence looming over him like a grey shadow. “Tsaan-teik.” When they spoke, it was with that voice. But it didn’t come from them. It came from the sky, the ground, the wrecks, the bodies. “My dear, lost child of Jafi. Favoured by the Mother, but unguided by her grace. Devoted to her name, but lost amidst her endless seas.”

They reached out with a tendril. Grey wisps draped from the gangly, ever-shifting limb.

“Come to me, my dear Tsaan-teik.” Sjan-dehk knew he had to resist her call. But her words, echoing in his head, overpowered all else in his mind. “Come into the Mists of Dusk and Dawn. Come sail across seas of doubt and thread the Paths, and I shall bring you to where you must go, and instruct you of what you must do. Come to me, lost Jafin child, and remember your forgotten roots.”

Sjan-dehk’s hand shivered. It reached for the grey wisps.[/i][/hider][/center]
[hr]
[center]

[img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/220927/23fb834f443fddf069b302a80ffae13a.png[/img]
[img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/220927/713c9ea7f90a3bccf2680492bc93671a.png[/img]
[img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/220928/bcf4c8fb894d886cf1f86d12d903935e.png[/img]

[color=1E90FF][b]Time[/b]: Morning[/color]
[color=1E90FF][b]Location[/b]: Aboard [i]Sudah[/i][/color]
[color=1E90FF][b]Interactions[/b]: [/color]
[color=1E90FF][b]Mentions[/b]: [/color]
[color=1E90FF][b]Attire[/b]: [hider]
[url=https://i.postimg.cc/8z5xjhFf/b73aac48-9c15-4c53-9289-37731ac8aace.png](Placeholder until I get a better reference image)[/url]
Roughspun, blue trousers
A shoulder belt and waist belt carrying his equipment
Two swords and two pistols, one on either side
A woven, conical hat wide enough to shade his entire face (in his hands)[/hider][/color]
[/center]
A powerful slap across Sjan-dehk’s face pulled him from the nightmare.

“Hey, wake up!” It was Iyen. The cheek where she had struck him stung – it would almost surely redden as the day went on – and she had used enough force to almost throw him from his seat and onto the polished woodwork of [i]Sudah[/i]’s accommodation deck. Even so, Sjan-dehk couldn’t find it in him to feel anything but gratitude towards her. Although nightmares weren’t anything new to him – they were almost nightly events at this point – this one felt particularly unnerving. It had been too visceral; too uncanny; too [i]confusing[/i]. He understood not even half of all that he had experienced. 

Well, more likely than not, there was [i]nothing[/i] to understand. The sleeping mind was a mysterious thing, as the scholars and mystics liked to say, and Sjan-dehk’s seemed to make a hobby out of tormenting him. He was glad to be freed from its demented hold, even if the unease it caused still lingered. 

With a tired grunt, he righted himself on the chair. Dull aches dotted his body – a result of yesterday night’s adventure – and his heart drummed a frenetic rhythm against his ribs. Whether because of the nightmare or Iyen’s unique method of waking him, the reason for the latter was up for debate. Sjan-dehk decided that it was a combination of both. He placed a hand on his chest. [color=1E90FF]“You’d better hope my heart settles soo–”[/color] He began in a grumble, but Iyen didn’t let him finish. She took him by the chin and turned his head to look her in the eyes. Large, hooded, and upturned, their dark irises bored holes into Sjan-dehk’s own. 

The blank expression he gave her reflected his utter lack of amusement. [color=1E90FF]“What in the abyss are you trying to do?”[/color] He asked drily. 

“Checking to see if you’ve finally lost your sea-addled mind,” Iyen replied, her eyes scrying his features for whatever it was that she hoped to find. Despite the seriousness in her voice, the smirk growing across her lips gave her true intentions away. “I’m serious!” She said through a laugh. “You looked like you were close to having a fit! Or you were about to shit yourself. Either way, aren’t you glad I woke you when I did?”

And just like that, memories of the nightmare began to fade. Most of them, in any case. Sjan-dehk tittered quietly and pushed Iyen’s hand away with the back of his. [color=1E90FF]“Sorry to disappoint,”[/color] he said with a shake of his head. Letting out a long sigh, he added, [color=1E90FF]“But it was just a bad dream. Strange one, too.”[/color]

Iyen’s face fell into a troubled frown. “You get them too, huh?” Her voice had turned soft, and she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Comforting warmth radiated from where she touched him. Sjan-dehk reached across his chest to brush his fingers against her hand. “None of it’s real, you know?” Her voice had turned soft, and she averted her eyes. “It’s all just our imagination playing tricks on us, and it’ll stop on its own. It’ll just take time, that’s what they all say.” She drew in a deep breath. “Wish they’d stop sooner, though.”

[i]Broken corpses. Shattered hulls. A ship of mist and her grey captain.[/i]

Fragmented scenes – the ones too stubborn to leave on their own – flashed through Sjan-dehk’s mind. He very briefly closed his eyes and willed them away. This wasn’t the time to dwell on them. Well, there never would be a time for that if he could do anything about it, but now was a particularly bad moment. Iyen had her own terrors to battle, and they were arguably far worse than his. Sjan-dehk had only fought a war. She had done the same, in addition to witnessing the invasion and occupation of Sudhrayar, and surviving the subsequent evacuation of her people across treacherous waters to faraway Jafi. She rarely spoke of those times, but what little she had shared in the past was enough to paint a very, very unpleasant picture.

If anything, Sjan-dehk should be the one to comfort her. And so, he covered her hand with his own, gave it a gentle squeeze, and said the only words he could think to say. [color=1E90FF]“I hope the Mother brings you to peaceful shores soon, Yen-yi, and with following winds.”[/color] The smile he gave her was small, and hesitant, but one of heartfelt affection. 

Iyen giggled and brought her eyes back to him. “Looks like someone’s feeling soft today,” she teased with a playful grin gracing her face. Then, it turned into a look of sincere tenderness. “Thank you, Shanya. Your words mean plenty to me.” In a softer voice, she added, “And may the Shadowed Green grant you peace and calm within its protective shade, seafaring one.”

With that, she pulled away and took a bounding step back. “Well, that’s enough moping for one day.” Mirth and chirpy lightness returned to her voice. She twirled in front of Sjan-dehk, the wide skirt of her dress like verdant waves flowing and fluttering around her legs. “Lucky for you it was [i]me[/i] who woke you,” she said, a playful twinkle in her eyes and her mouth pulled into a toothy grin. “There’re many who dream of waking to sight as fine as this. Makes you forget about that nightmare, doesn’t it?” She struck a pose, accentuating her slender face with her hands. 

Sjan-dehk chuckled and stood up, taking his time to stretch his limbs. In truth, he found it hard to disagree with Iyen – she was, indeed, attractive by most standards. Lithe and cutting a figure that was both elegant and strung with subtle, wiry muscles, she struck a fine balance between beauty and brawn. And her dress certainly didn’t hurt her appearance. Made in typical Sudhrayarn fashion, it hugged her body tightly where it did, like bark on a tree, and flowed loosely where it didn’t, like the fronds of a palm. Her shoulders, arms, and stomach were left bare. 

[color=1E90FF]“Almost,”[/color] Sjan-dehk replied with a grin. He had known Iyen long enough to know when she playing the tease. [color=1E90FF]“I think the way you woke me gave me something new to have nightmares about, though.”[/color]

Iyen laughed and winked. “Damn. I’ll have to do better next time, then. Maybe I should dress as a fish next time. That’s what you sea-loving folk like, right?” Then, she cleared her throat and folded her arms across her chest. “Anyway, I didn’t wake you just for fun, though your reaction was very entertaining, I’ve to say. I bring word from our good Lady Adiyan.”

It was only then did Sjan-dehk remember why he was even here, aboard [i]Sudah[/i], in the first place. He had received a missive earlier that morning, summoning him for an audience with Lady Adiyan. By the officious tone, stern wording, and lack of any cordiality, he had assumed that he was due for a scolding for what he had done the previous day. It wouldn’t have surprised him – he did take [i]Sada Kurau[/i] out to sea with barely any notice, and he hadn’t written a report about that incident to Lady Adiyan. In fact, he hadn’t written any report on yesterday’s affairs. That was probably another reason for her to be upset with him. 

“She regrets that she can’t see you,” Iyen continued, much to Sjan-dehk’s surprise. He must have made it clear on his face, as Iyen then explained, “Our wise doctor–” she made no effort to hide the sarcasm laden in her voice “–has decided that she had done enough work for the morning, and has ordered Lady Adiyan to rest.”

Worry entered Sjan-dehk’s heart. [color=1E90FF]“Is she alright?”[/color]

Iyen shrugged and gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “She’s fine. As fine as she can be, at least. She’s definitely not so sick that she can’t work, though.” She huffed. “Anyway, Lady Adiyan asked me to remind you that we’re not in Viserjanta, so don’t go around intervening in things you shouldn’t. It’s fine to help the locals, and she encourages you to do that, but don’t take it too far. The pirates here might not be the same as the pirates we understand as Viserjantans, so be careful when hunting them. Don’t start an incident we can’t handle, and most importantly, don’t take the law into your own hands. Keep in mind that we’re simply guests here.” From the boredom in her tone, and the way she spoke progressively faster and faster as she went on, this was clearly something she had been made to memorise.

Sjan-dehk nodded slowly. There was sense in Lady Adiyan’s warning, even if he would rather not see any of it. [color=1E90FF]“Is there anything else?”[/color]

His question brought a grin to Iyen’s face, and it wasn’t the sort that he liked. “Our good Lady also strongly suggests that we learn more about local culture. She’s heard word that there’s to be a religious ceremony happening somewhere in the city, today. You’re strongly advised to attend.” That meant that Lady Adiyan expected Sjan-dehk to be there. “And [i]I[/i] am to go along with you. To keep you out of trouble, you know?”

Sjan-dehk blinked. [color=1E90FF]“What do you mean, ‘keep me out of trouble?”[/color] He asked incredulously. [color=1E90FF]“You were there with me when we went out to get those pirates!”[/color]

“Oh, was I?” Iyen’s grin widened, and her tongue peeked through her lips. “I must’ve failed to mention that to Lady Adiyan last night. My mistake.” 

A long, drawn-out sigh of resignation left Sjan-dehk’s lips. Well, he supposed it could be worse; attending the ceremony on his own would have been painful. At least with Iyen around, the pain would be shared. [color=1E90FF]“I guess I’ve no choice,”[/color] he grumbled. This was likely Lady Adiyan’s way of punishing him. She knew he had little interest in religious affairs; the occasional visit to a temple or shrine, and the occasional assisting of a priest or priestess was the most he had ever done as far as the Gods were concerned. [color=1E90FF]“So when must we leave?”[/color] He asked. 

“As soon as I get my things,” Iyen replied cheerily. “It’ll be just like old times! Let’s see what trouble we can try to keep ourselves out of.”

[hr]
[center][hider=The Navigator in the Mists][h2]The Navigator in the Mists[/h2]
The [b]Navigator in the Mists[/b] (Alternatively known as [b][i]The Misted Lady[/i][/b], [b][i]Mistress of the Doubt-Sea[/i][/b], [b][i]They-of-Many-Paths[/i][/b], [b][i]Master of Dusk and Dawn[/i][/b], [b][i]the Unmentioned God[/i][/b], [b][i]She-who-is-most-Humble[/i][/b], [b][i]the Eternal Tomorrow[/i][/b], [b][i]the Harvester of Fates[/i][/b], [b][i]They-of-two-Faces[/i][/b]) is a Goddess – or God, depending on depiction – of the orthodox Jafin pantheon. They have dominion over fate and prophecies, possibilities, misdirection, twilight – both in terms of the time of day, and boundaries between two opposites – and the destiny of mortals. Modern interpretations of her lore place them as a primordial deity that predates the ascension of the [b]Mother of the Waves[/b]. It is widely believed that the Navigator was once the prime deity of the ancient Jafins, a position since taken by the Mother.

Depictions of the Navigator are varied. As with most Viserjantan deities, they are not viewed as inherently good or evil. However, myths related to the Navigator largely paint them as a negative entity; one who leads the righteous astray and seduces the lost to be their unwilling servants. However, alternative interpretations exist, where the Navigator is instead merely a neutral force that brings one to where they are needed, rather than where they want to go. 

A newer, and more radical interpretation of the Navigator paints them as simply another aspect of the Mother. Indeed, the similarities between them are plenty – both are seen as ‘guiding’ deities, both are seen as progenitors of the Jafin peoples, and both have domains related to the sea – and arguments have been put forward that the Mother was, in fact, either a projection or manifestation of the Navigator.

The Navigator in the Mists’ domain is known as the [b]Infinite Obscurity[/b]. The nature of their plane is said to be utterly incomprehensible to mortals. It is a place where every possibility of every fate happens at the same time, or never happens for all eternity. The realm changes its form and nature according to the whims of the Navigator, although it is said that its true form is a featureless, ink-black sea. The Navigator sails through their realm upon a ship made entirely out of sea fog and mist, and from there, they chart the courses of mortals from birth to death.

They are considered to be the patron of [i][b]the lost[/b][/i], [i][b]the uncertain[/b][/i], and those whose [i][b]life is at a crossroads[/b][/i].[/hider][/center]