Captain Quinton Church watched as Ayla made her way out of the cabin, her words lingering in the air like the fading echoes of a storm. He could see the toll her demonstration had taken on her, the exhaustion etched in her golden eyes, and the weight she carried. Her request was not unexpected, but it was a delicate matter.

He stepped towards her the room back to his desk which made him pass close enough to feel the continued scent of her magic latch back onto him, the juniper being the most powerful but the cedar wood being his preference, and spoke in a low, even tone. “You have my blessing to continue concealing your identity,” he said, his gaze steady as it met hers as they were now only inches apart. “I don’t expect the passengers to understand what you are or what you’re capable of. Fear often comes from ignorance, and there’s no point in stirring up unnecessary trouble on my ship.”

He paused, considering his words carefully. “But remember, Ayla, I have placed my trust in you. That trust has not been earned, nor is it easily kept. Prove to me that you are more than an elf with snakes words and oil for sale.”

With that, he stepped back, giving her space and then opening the door to the deck where he made a quick exit. He walked out and back to the boat which now was ready for their departure. "Don't forget the books Miss Brooks," the faintest hint of a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. He knew the challenges ahead would test them all, but he could only hope that this elf could keep her determination through every wave they were about to crash into.