Private Tales Children of the Sky and Sea

[Everleigh Ebersol]

The small boat from Vel Luin was one of the few that ever went to one of the archipelagos from the Cortosi Coast and sailed South along the shore of the Falwood. The Captain was from Asturias, the same island that couldn't boast more than two hundred inhabitants, and he had made his living from knowing the safest route to get to the island known for its dangerous high and low tide schedule. The locals seemed to be the only ones able to navigate it, with rumors about great sea mists overtaking intruders who tried to come to the island without a guide.

"My wife owns the only inn in town." Captain Carrera said. He was a quiet man who lived by doing less and speaking less to prolong one's life. His languid movements had made Everleigh suspicious of his skill at sea, but it seemed that Captain Carrera must have made a deal with the sea that granted him smooth waters. He had grown far more talkative as they neared their destination, and now, with Asturias in sight, it seemed he might say more than information about the wind or the time of day.

"Does she?" Everleigh stopped her nervous pawing at her forehead, trying to forget the tiny bumps that suited the Spine mountain range than an angry colony of zits that had appeared out of nowhere. She moved her blunt bangs over her forehead to hide the insecurity, but the sea breeze blew her hair back to reveal that Everleigh was dealing with a breakout that would shame most fifteen-year-olds. She knew stressing about it worsened, so she turned her head over her shoulder to the Captain, hoping for a distraction.

"Yes." He didn't even look back at Everleigh, keeping his gaze centered on his home. One of the three sailors aboard the ship cleared his throat as he came from the back to the front, checking the ropes around the mast. He paid the dreadlord and initiates no mind, although he kept glancing back out to the horizon. "I always come back home this time of year." The Captain said.

"Do you?"

"She'd change the locks on me if I didn't." For the first time in four days, she saw him grin, and this time, he looked down at her with some humor before his expression returned to its usual indifference. "The festival is in three days. My youngest always demands to stay up and watch the fireworks, but once it's over, she passes out. Someone's gotta carry her back." Everleigh smiled. More than a few times, she remembered her father carrying her in his strong, hairy arms and laying her down in bed.

"Isn't that why you ladies are here? For the festival?" The Sailor, Danca, asked.

"No," Everleigh answered honestly. "I didn't know there was a festival. Late Summer Solstice celebration?" Danca shook his head, coming over to the purple proctor. He leaned over, holding his hands behind his lower back in a simple clasp.

"We call it Espejo del Mundo. In three days, the sea and sky will become one. The horizon disappears-- you can't tell what is the sky and what is the ocean. It's one. People come from all over to experience it. The fireworks are the best part: If you look straight ahead or up or down, you see them everywhere." His hands helped paint the picture of the fantastical nature of the day. Everleigh couldn't remember hearing about such a thing or reading of it. She wondered if people came from all over to see it or if it was more local.

From a past lesson, Everleigh remembered that Asturias had been under a succession of many different rulers: from the tribal peoples of Aina O Ka La, the Cortosi zealots, some warlords of the Empire, Anirians, and even the elves in the Falwood. Asturians, as they liked to call themselves, were a vast melting pot of many different cultures (everything from their food to the language) that had effectively regained some of their freedom through a contract with Vel Anir that was more lucrative for the latter than the former.

"Viejito, your lady gonna bring out some of that golden pear wine, or am I gonna have to...." Everleigh turned her head to their destination, only partially listening to the banter between the sailor and the Captain. They hadn't asked why the Academy had sent out a proctor and two initiates to their quaint little island. Maybe she should have lied about them being there for the festival. However, she was confident that they would become aware of the real reason once the boat docked and the Captain and his crew returned to their families.

Everleigh Ebersol, Initiate Kristen Pirian, and Initiate Zinnia St. Kolbe were there for only one bloody reason. Under Academy orders, Asturias' peculiar parasite problem was to be handled by any means necessary. It was clear to the three women that if they deemed it essential for Vel Anir's safety, they had permission to annihilate anyone on the island. Natives or tourists didn't matter. Whoever stepped foot on Asturias was tainted, and this parasite must not return to Anirian soil.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

BEFORE​

What scared Kristen the most was Proctor Magomo's tone. It lacked entirely his usual intensity, his explosive energy, his heady mix of anger and eagerness over Kristen's failures and his ideas on how to force her to improve. No. Not this time. Not for this mission.

It was a tone which reminded her most...of her father Neil. One forged of firmness in what he was telling her to do, but one subtly threaded through with concern. Mayhap even worry. Gods, Kristen never thought she would have preferred to be yelled at, but Proctor Magomo had not raised his voice once after Kristen had stepped into his office in the Proctors' Building.

"You'll do this because you have to," Proctor Magomo said, rising from his seat across the desk while Kristen sat rigidly in her own.

"P-Proctor Magomo—"

"Again."

He wanted her to lose the stutter. To dispel her nervousness and speak clearly, to make herself soundly known as only a Dreadlord should.

"Proctor Magomo, I will not do it." Kristen, terrified, stared forward and stayed rigid with all the military bearing she could muster. "I will not venture forth and commit an outright massacre. Against the enemies of Vel Anir I bear no reservation, and gladly by sword and spell would I serve my Republic and my homeland. But to wield a cruel and merciless heavy hand against the innocent is a line I staunchly shall never cross. Any punishment that the Academy deems fit for my insubordination..." she swallowed, "...I shall without protest accept."

"Even hanging," Proctor Magomo said, putting the suggestion out mildly as he came around the desk.

"Even...hanging, Proctor Magomo."

Proctor Magomo sat on the edge of the desk, hunched over some, elbows on his legs, hands entwined. Now Kristen felt true fear, beyond the vague and ominous nature of that which was inspired by his unusual tone. She couldn't help it: the shaking. She sat with her heels and legs together, back straight, hands on her knees, but she for the life of her just could not quell the shakes. She could feel her lip trembling, a distant thing. Her vision quivered ever so slightly from the unsteadiness of her head. Her palms were clammy, hands drained of all their warmth.

At last, Proctor Magomo said, "You're not going to be hanged, Initiate Pirian. But you need to do this."

"I—"

"I heard what you said, Kristen." This was the first time ever that Proctor Magomo had called her by her first name. The incredulity of the moment almost banished that horrid fear entirely, the shock so powerful. "You're worried over what you might have to do. I understand that. Will it be a massacre on that Kress-forsaken island?" Magomo shrugged. "I don't know. Because that's up to you. You have to land on Asturias and make an assessment, you along with Proctor Ebersol and Initiate St. Kolbe. Lives are in your hands. Not just the lives of the people on that island, either—remember that."

Kristen sat for a moment in silence. And then, because the question was burning inside her mind, she asked, "...Why me? What talent have I for a task of this kind? Why...why me?"

She saw a slight shift in Proctor Magomo's posture. A lowering of his head, to come more into her rigidly forward field of view. She resisted looking...but at last met his eyes. Gods, where was that gaze she had always known, hard and demanding? Why was this regard of Proctor Magomo's now, soft and darkened by silent worry, so much more disquieting?

Because it was the face she imagined her father would have when at last she returned to him after Graduation...the face which knew he had lost a Darling Daughter and gained a Dreadlord.

Proctor Magomo's words sealed this notion.

"Because you have to know that service won't always be clean."

* * * * *

NOW​

Kristen didn't see the angry colony of zits claiming their small dominion on Proctor Ebersol's forehead, no; the breeze revealed them while Kristen was looking out over the sea. What perked her attention was the mention of Espejo del Mundo, the local festival that they would be arriving in time to see.

As the captain and the sailors came to converse among themselves, Kristen just had to know:

"Proctor Ebersol," she said, speaking to Everleigh confidentially, "was the timing of our mission...intentional? That it would coincide with this festival?"

Perhaps Zinnia felt a similar uneasiness about the whole situation. The mixing of the grim work set out before them and the joviality of a festival made for a concoction that turned the stomach. Proctor Magomo had said that things wouldn't always be clean, but Blessed Aionus...to cast gloom upon the Asturians' festival with the task that lay in store...

(If there remained any to even celebrate the festival)

Wishful thinking wanted to cheerfully suggest that they would be done before those three days of intervening time had elapsed, that the parasite problem was perhaps overestimated and could be solved quickly.

But wishful thinking was so often hope turned to poison.

Everleigh Ebersol Zinnia

 

[Zinnia]

"Genocide" was not something that Zinnia had ever wanted to consider on her list of deeds carried out in service to her beloved Vel Anir. Proctor D'Amour had apparently heard who had already been assigned to this mission and had requested that Zinnia tag along. Why, for the love of Kress and Anirius, had the snow-haired proctor specifically sought her out she'd never know, but the request had been clear: avoid the unthinkable and find a peaceful resolution if possible. Maybe she'd known that Zinnia had a heart, but surely the proctor knew the lengths she'd go to in fulfilling her duty? Even then, her (basically) niece was already on the mission; why not ask her?

This was all in the wake of Caeso's brutal death as well. There was much on Zinnia's mind in the days leading up to their journey, none of it focused on the task at hand. Maybe D'Amour had just wanted to give Zinnia some time away from the Academy, from home. That was a nice thought. As it stood though?

Misery. Pure misery. Zinnia still hated boats. She'd never gotten used to them and their awful rocking and swaying, and it had been four days of this hell. Any unease she might have felt over the nature of their mission and the deeper implications at hand were entirely overshadowed by her continuous urge to vomit off the side of the ship. Gods, if she could never ride on a boat again in her life, it would be too soon.

"P-please...just tell me...we're alm-most there..." she groaned to the other girls from her knock-kneed place by a nearby railing she was hung over.

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

A quick glance in Kristen’s direction to then quickly shift to Zinnia. Everleigh’s violet gaze centered on Kristen. Everleigh understood why she would be sent on a mission such as this one. It was something she had done countless of times in the years before the Revolution. Why the Academy would send initiates such as Kristen and Zinnia was something that had confused Everleigh since she had been assigned it.

Other initiates would have been better. But Everleigh offered no complaint or suggestions to when she saw their names. It would have been foolish to do so. In the long run, Everleigh knew she would prefer to have those two instead of others who may have been more compulsive.

“I’d imagine so.” Everleigh said impassively. “It’ll be easier for us to do our research— small communities like this don’t care too much for outsiders. If there are others coming here then we’ll have less eyes on us generally speaking. Everyone is probably busy setting up, even the local town gossip might be distracted.” She didn’t state the obvious, that if there was a festival that nearly everyone on the island would expected to be then it would easy to end it all there.

If they waited until after the festival by either taking too long to decide what to do or for some other unforeseen circumstance, then they risked the sailors and tourists heading back to Liadin.

“We won’t have much time.” She was playing with her bangs again. Maybe she was breaking out so much because of her bangs? Or was her oily skin? Stop. That wasn’t important. Everleigh pulled out a coin, the strange one she had found in Arnim, and began to play with it between her fingers instead. “But let’s try to finish early. As soon as we dock…” violet eyes shifted towards Zinnia’s form once more.

“As soon as Initiate St. Kolbe recovers some, we’ll head off to collect information. We didn’t get much from the Academy.” Or from the Captain or Danca. But then again, Everleigh hadn’t tried to pry too much. The first two days the crew had mostly avoided her and the initiates. Only now had they begun to warm up.

“Danca, how much longer?” The sailor paused and looked at the trio.

“I’d say… less than half-hour. Right, Captain?” The Captain huffed something in agreement. Danca crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the mast. “If she gets boat rock there’s a herb on the island that helps. You make it into a tea and it makes the vertigo go away.” A shadow fell over the boat as a cloud reached up towards the sun.

“She’s fine.” Everleigh said then paused. Leaning over towards Zinnia, Everleigh whispered: “You’re fine, right? Not gonna puke all over the place?”

Kristen Pirian Zinnia

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Fair points from Proctor Ebersol on the matter. And, well, perhaps the foremost point among them was the fact that despite Kristen's good intentions, and Zinnia's good intentions, and (so she trusted on faith) Everleigh's good intentions, yes, outsiders were often received coldly and slowly by small communities. Not to say that the Asturians would lack hospitality, far from it, but rather outside of courteous and genial gestures afforded to strangers they would not be so forthcoming about helping them with so sensitive an issue, let alone be prone to divulge anything resembling a secret even if it might help toward a resolution of the same.

Kristen could only hope that reservation and reticence amongst the small populace did not compound to ultimately spell disaster for the whole island. Speaking of which...Kristen knew only a scarce and now precious amount of the creatures known as "doppelgangers".

She waited for Zinnia to answer. Oh, poor Zinnia! Perhaps with a touch more foresight, Kristen could have been like Lumen and brought along some herbal remedies to aid with the seasickness. It was awful to see her suffer.

Nevertheless, she waited. Then asked, speaking again in a low and confidential tone, lest they be overheard, "Proctor Ebersol, I am mostly unfamiliar with...'doppelgangers'. In all honesty, I thought that such things did not exist, that mayhap the stories of them were but cases concerning coincidences, twins, beguiling magics, or even shapeshifters. Has the Academy told you more than it has told myself and Initiate St. Kolbe?"

Everleigh Ebersol Zinnia

 

[Zinnia]

Oh, Everleigh was asking her if she was okay. That was nice of her. Zinnia peered down at the side of the boat, just past the railing she'd been leaning over. It was covered in her own bile. A bit late for that "puking all over" bit, but the proctor didn't need to know.

While the question disturbed Zinnia from her attempt at focusing on the horizon and not getting more sick than she already was, but she weakly raised a thumb in the air at Miss Ebersol's question. Nothing left in the tank to eject at this point anyways, though dry retching wasn't off the table just yet.

She shook herself. If the island was as close as the captain had stated then she could at least pull her focus together enough to put her mind to the mission.
"Y-yeah, we really weren't t-told all that...muh...urp...much. What exactly are w-we supposed to be d-doing about the p-problem?"

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

She saw the thumbs up from Zinnia. The initiate didn’t particularly look well. But there was a difference in being well compared to being fine. As far as Everleigh knew, there wasn’t a single initiate at the Academy that was wholly well. Everyone there should be fine. Or fine enough. It was part of their training, dealing with all sorts of discomfort.

Perhaps on the trip back Everleigh could give her something that might ease the seasickness. She wasn’t sure what would work best but it could be something for her to figure out when there was down time. Kristen had brought up an important question.

“Yes, they have.” Everleigh said. She was quiet for a moment. There was nothing that said she had to keep things confidential. Yet the way it was brought to her attention made her feel that it wasn’t something she was supposed to speak about. Or rather, something that should be kept from Kristen and Zinnia. Once more, Everleigh regarded the young women.

They weren’t the sort to be sent out on a massacre. Was this a possible punishment for them? A test? Was it a punishment or test against Everleigh herself? Could there be a more sinister reason lurking about?

“There isn’t much that we know about them.” Everleigh continued. If she wanted to do things differently then she should tell them. Even if it wasn’t much. Even if it clearly pinpointed why Everleigh was sent. “Three hundred years ago, when Vel Anir took Asturias over from Fal’Addas, Dreadlord Faragher wrote a letter back to his commander about something a elf said to them. The elves had a small colony on Asturias that was separate from the human side.” Everleigh used a finger to point at the docks and the bright yellow buildings that could be distinguished now.

“This is the human side, over the mountain is the other side where the elven colony was.” Mountain was a grand word to call the oversized hill. “Anyways. The elf said to beware his shadow. Dreadlord Faragher thought it to be some thinly-veiled threat, dark magic of some sort. Dreadlord Faragher returned back to Vel Anir months later. He was charged with the murder of two nobles and other things. About a dozen or so dreadlords set a trap for him. He should’ve died.

“Apparently, no matter how much he bled, he continued to fight. Limbs grew back if they were chopped off. It didn’t matter if he was sliced in half or cut up into a bunch of pieces. Fire did nothing. Poison did nothing.” She let that sink in, taking a pause. “He was like Edric.” Another pause. “Finally he was restrained and taken in to study. He had blood and organs but when they were removed and cut open, inside it was just… this gray matter. Not quite like flesh but close enough to it.” Everleigh shrugged. “One report likened it to everything having a outside, human appearance but bodily functions were imitated, not needed for Faragher any longer.

“After three days, he melted, right before their eyes. He turned into nothingness. The liquid evaporated immediately. Even the organs and limbs they had removed from him turned to nothingness.” She wondered if this was helpful or if it just gave them more questions. Personally she had felt the reports that she had went over did very little in explaining anything at all.

“Not much more than that is known. It’s assumed something happened to Faragher while on the island but none of his fellow comrades ever felt that Faragher was out of character. His memory didn’t seem lacking either, one of the experiments did test to see if he had memory loss, but everything that was asked of Faragher was correct. Vel Anir couldn’t quite track down the elves from the colony here, probably because their ship must have been sunk on their return trip.” No proof of what Everleigh suggested but all three of them should know how Vel Anir worked by now. Vel Anir always had a nice way of making things look like a accident.

“When the locals were asked, nothing decisive could come from their words and stories. It was all jumbled up and they blamed that on Asturias being claimed by so many different nations. Whatever parasite turned Faragher to what he was couldn’t be found in the sea life, animals, soil, or flora. Then again, no one really knew what to look for. All we really know is that poison and fire are essentially useless. It will not hurt their imitation bodies. It will kill everything else.”

Everleigh hoped it wouldn’t come to that. She was tired of being the one who got sent to every community that Vel Anir wanted gone.

“Start rowing!” Captain Carrera shouted. The crew had moved to the oars, the sail bundled up. Incredibly close to the dock, it wouldn’t be long until the women could touch land after four days out at sea.

Kristen Pirian Zinnia

 

[Kristen Pirian]

He was like Edric.

This was the single most startling line from the entirety of Proctor Ebersol's explanation. Kristen's widening eyes couldn't hide any of how she felt about that. She knew, within context, what Proctor Ebersol meant: that Dreadlord Faragher (or what passed as him) was, or had been made, as unstoppable as Edric, a high benchmark indeed. But Kristen couldn't help but to take the statement as not just a means to make a comparison of Faragher's resilience but also as a declaration of his character. This parasite which possessed him seemed to have driven him to horrific acts; turned him, either immediately but with a cunning capacity for discretion or gradually over time, into a monster much like Edric himself, willing to do anything and everything to achieve his ends, whatever they may be.

Well. No. It wasn't quite right to think of it as Dreadlord Faragher being "turned". It was more like he had been...replaced. The description of his death, his melting away...there was nothing human about it. What creature lived in Faragher's stead merely wore his form, having stolen his identity, even—gods!—his memories. Yet beneath this assuredly very convincing veneer lurked a provable malice, one set upon deception and murder and further cruelties yet unknown.

Edric was, last Kristen had seen him, set to be executed. Good. All the better for Vel Anir, and for what justice could be enacted by meager worldly means for his wanton crimes. Here on Asturias...every...single...one of those parasites, those doppelgangers, had to be similarly slain. But the conundrum remained: how to identify them? The implication about poison, and how it could be used to clearly show who was a doppelganger (by of course killing everyone who wasn't) sat uncomfortably in Kristen's gut. Proctors attending upperclass Initiates was a rarity, only really if there was a defined reason—and this was the defined reason. Proctor Ebersol was the failsafe for Vel Anir's interests.

"Mayhap if we could first find out how it propagates itself," Kristen suggested. "Easier said than done, to be sure, especially if these creatures are all as formidable as the one posing as Dreadlord Faragher."

Her lips churned and pursed anxiously.

"I hope that it had more to do with his being a Dreadlord than any inherent strength of the creatures themselves."

One Edric was a menace to the whole of the Republic. But a whole island full of them? What short of divine intervention could stop such a fearsome host?

Everleigh Ebersol Zinnia

 

[Zinnia]

Gears in Zinnia's mind began to turn as Everleigh described the situation the trio would be dealing with. Some of them productive, others fearful. Much like the madness that infected the Legionnaires she and Kristen had fought some weeks prior, could these doppelgangers spread themselves like an infection? To be replaced within your own skin...the very thought sent Zinnia shuddering.

On the other hand, she did now have a very simple follow-up question:
"I kn-now it might p-provoke an attack, but...well, how q-quickly do the monsters regenerate?" she asked, looking from the horizon to Everleigh and trying to keep her vision from swimming about. "We c-could do something l-like...guh...clipping the t-tips of one ear of every c-citizen. Any th-that grow back would be an easy m-mark as a doppelg-ganger, right?"

Zinnia didn't really want to consider how hard it might be to actually drop something with the regenerative capabilities of Edric, let alone several somethings like that, but that would be a fairly safe and relatively humane way to test for the human citizens, at least. Hell, even just an earlobe piercing might do the trick, though that would be less easy to track.

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Waves began to rock the ship far more, dark blue water slamming into the smooth wood like playful little slaps to let everyone know on board that they were still in nature’s mercy. Seabirds flew overhead, all seeming to congregate by the smaller docks that were used for the fishing boats. Along the shore Everleigh could pick out the women and children who were helping the men bring in their nets heavy with fish or steal cages used for black and blue crustaceans.

She could hear the shouting and laughter of the children as they carried buckets filled with the daily bounty, seeing the younger kids chase each other with a lone crab claw or a extra long piece of dark green seaweed.

Kristen and Zinnia had come up with two different solutions, both looking at her.

“The doppelgänger didn’t use Dreadlord Faragher’s magic. He was a telekinetic. Maybe it could but decided not to use it, but in the reports it was never officially decided on what was fact.” Everleigh said. “I will be assuming that they can use magic.” It was always better to be prepared for the worst, and something about their nature did seem magical. Violet gaze went to Zinnia. “As for your suggestion, it’s not wrong. It would take too long. I’m not sure how accurate the record keeping is here. Or if Asturians like waiting around in lines. Not only that, we should assume everyone on the island may be a doppelgänger. Even the tourists, those already there and those that come later. Sure, I could remember everyone we come across, but that’s assuming we actually come across everyone on the island.” They were against the dock now and the anchor was dropped into the calmer waters of the sea.

“Also.” Everleigh stood up. Picking up the small, black pack she used for missions and slinging it over her back. “I think it’s best if we forgo the titles of proctor and initiate. No one likes having dreadlords lurking about.” Especially not a group of people who had dreadlords sent to their island before to force them into signing contracts that didn’t behoove them. “We’ll follow with Kristen’s plan for today. See if we can piece things together by actually being on the island.”

THE FIRST DAY: EARLY MORNING​

The three Anirians would get off of the boat first. Danca, the most friendly of the seafarers, would help each woman as if taking a step longer than fifteen inches would be too much for them. His calloused hand was warm. Everleigh wondered if the doppelgängers could emit a similar heat? There had to be a tell, something that proved their nature. There always was one, even the best gambler would have one.

This dock used for the larger ships was rather forlorn compared to the smaller ones. Other than a few other sailors milling about by bringing boxes to or from their own ship, most of the ships already docked were empty and devoid of movement. Sails were tied up and oars were put away.

“AHOY CAPTAIN!” Two pairs of voices merged into one as two girls ran down the dock, bright eyes scrunched up in their wide-mouth laughter. The eldest was ahead and the youngest was doing her best to keep up. She tripped and barely had time to catch herself with her hands. The eldest skidded to a halt, looking back. The youngest began to cry, staring at her hands.

“Mielle, poor angel, there’s no need for tears.” Danca said, rushing over to the small girl. Her curls were shined like well-polished boots underneath the sun, skin well tanned from having played outside. “You can’t cry in front of the Captain. What would your father say?” He picked her up, setting her on her feet. “Look at that, you’re fine, see? You’re fine!” Mielle sniffed but nodded her head. “That’s a big girl. Let me help you up on the boat, eh? Come on, Anvie.” The eldest followed after them. The trio moved past the proctor and initiates.

“Wait, Danca.” He turned. The girls looked at her, two pairs of blue-hazel eyes that could’ve made the girls twins if thats all one saw of them. “The inn. Where was it again?” The littlest whispered something into Danca’s ear. He smiled but didn’t share her words.

“Right up the main road.” He pointed, there was only one road that was wide and the color of the yellow stone that all the buildings seemed to be made of. “To the left. The door is painted red with a white ship on it.” Everleigh nodded her head, looked hard at the youngest knee’s. The skin was pink.

“Thank you.” Everleigh pivoted away from the sailor and Captain Carrera‘s daughters. She gestured for Kristen and Zinnia to follow after her. Their pace was a brisk one. Only once when they were off the dock did Everleigh speak. “You two are good with kids, right?” They should be at least, with Zinnia coming from an orphanage and Kristen being Kristen.

A splash behind them could be heard. Everleigh turned. Anvie, the eldest sister was looking over the rail of the boat, down at the sea. She was climbing up and over it, saying nothing. A small hand reached out from the water but a wave without foam yet overtook it and made it disappear. Anvie went to jump off but was pulled back.

Kristen Pirian Zinnia

 

[Kristen Pirian]

I think it's best if we forgo the titles of Proctor and Initiate...

"Very well then, Everleigh," Kristen said. A good idea, and no mistake. Being overly conspicuous about their status as Dreadlord and Initiates would seem rather heavy-handed, now that Everleigh had called attention to it. Everleigh, Kristen, and Zinnia would be names much easier to relate to than Proctor Ebersol, Initiate Pirian, and Initiate St. Kolbe; and by Kristen's lights this mission would hinge very much upon trust. Yes, 'twas no exaggeration to say that securing the trust of the Asturians could mean the difference between life and horrid death. A grim reality, one Kristen shuddered to contemplate too much.

The boat docked. Danca helped Kristen in her turn off of the boat, and she gave him an appreciative smile, saying, "Thank you!" as her boots touched the solid plane of the dock. Oh! Goodness! Was it nice to back upon stable ground again! Zinnia most certainly would be grateful for this.

The two little girls came running up then, and Kristen couldn't help but to touch the tips of her porcelain fingers to her mouth and blush with adoration; they were so cuuuute! But they, unfortunately, had work to do. They couldn't entertain the little ones.

Or...could they?

"But of course," Kristen said in answer to Everleigh's question, keeping pace with the Proctor as they all walked. "Mayhap this will come as something of a surprise, but, prior to enrolling into the Academy, when I was thirteen and fourteen years of age, often were my younger cousins left in my care when their parents had some business abroad. Oh, it was a delightful time, and I was quite honored to be trusted so, even at so young an age myself. I had until then wondered how my sister..."

Kristen continued to talk.

Unaware.

Everleigh Ebersol Zinnia

 

[Zinnia]

With titles decided and something resembling a plan in place, it was time to set the trio in motion, it seemed. And not in the manner that they'd been at for the last several days, thank the gods, but on land. The ship docked and the three of them descended onto said docks, kindly aided off by one Danca. Zinnia promptly dropped to her knees and breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

At long last, the sanctity of terra firma. Zinnia could have cried if it weren't shameful of her to do so in a public place, much more one they were trying to make a good impression on.

“You two are good with kids, right?”

The words hit Zinnia's ears and she looked to watch the two children pass onto the boat.
"Um..."
It was not something she'd ever really had to consider. She stood, and thankfully Kristen began to give an elaborate answer. Huh. Big family, those Pirians. Zinnia wasn't even aware that Kristen had a sister. She began to step after her compatriots, listening to the noble girl's rant, but stopped short.

*SPLOOSH*

The sea was fairly calm coming into port. That sound set off little alarms in Zinnia's head. She wheeled to look back towards the ship, only to catch the briefest glimpse of the elder sister being yanked away from the ship's railing, and a tiny hand sink beneath the tide.

Zinnia was running back towards the water before she had even realized her legs were carrying her. Pure instinct drove her. No one else had seen, so no one else would act. Even if they had, would anyone else be fast enough? She had to. As she dove off the edge of the dock she was just thankful that her armor was packed in a trunk and not strapped to her body.

Cold, salty water rushed all around her as she breached the water's surface, all sound muffling in an instant as it filled her ear canals. Down, down into the murk. Where did the girl go? Sharp, slitted pupils, opened as wide as they could to seek their target. The salt burned, but...there. The faintest of silhouettes, the small, sinking form of a person. Zinnia kicked and clawed her way down, swimming as hard as she could to grab the girl before she was out of reach and gone forever.

Closer. Closer. She reached out, trying so very hard to make any contact she could, until finally...there!

Zinnia felt her fingers clasp around a tiny wrist, and in an instant she inverted, pushing hard for the surface. The sun, muted and slight beneath the slowly churning waves above, served as her guide as she paddled with all of her might. Her lungs burned. Zinnia had never been the greatest at holding her breath, even if swimming came fairly easy to her. Her teeth grit. Just a little...further...the stale air within her lungs was forced out, bubbles rocketing from her nostrils.

There! She breached the surface with a tremendous gasp, and immediately began to holler.
"Help! We need help, p-please! She'll drown! She'll die!"
Zinnia had pulled herself and the little girl to the surface, but she'd been aware the whole time that the girl was unconscious, and Zinnia lacked the strength to pull her out now. Someone had to close the final gap.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Kristen cut herself off in the middle of her conversation.

"...Zinnia?"

Kristen had stopped and turned, mildly bewildered. Her fellow Initiate had just, seemingly unprompted, turned and...ran. A quick flick of her eyes, this as inquisitive a gesture as it was brief, to Everleigh. Did Zinnia forget something on the boat? All of their trunks were going to be offloaded by the sailors, so what could it have possibly been? Yet the sheer haste with which Zinnia's sprint was imbued suggested something of far more immediacy.

Kristen had started with a jog laden with confusion, but as Zinnia dove into the actual water beneath the dock, her pace quickened severely. Her boots clomped onto the wooden boards of the dock, the last little bubbles from Zinnia's dive disappeared from the surface of the sea as she overlooked the edge, and she said aloud though Zinnia, underwater, couldn't possibly hear, "Zinnia, what are you doing? What is the matter?"

A moment later, her unheard question nevertheless received its answer.

Kristen gasped. Blessed Aionus, what happened! But the urgency of the moment delayed all other things besides immediate action. Kristen flattened herself to the dock, thrust down her long arms, said, "Here, here!" while grasping for the unconscious Mielle. The girl in hand—so delicate, so light—Kristen, with what strength that Zinnia herself, as it so happened, helped to foster, pulled her up and onto the docks.

Zinnia Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Everleigh had stood still, watching Zinnia and Kristen go off to save the drowning girl. Only once it became clear to her that Kristen intended on helping Zinnia did she go to the boat to catch the attention of the men still onboard. Her feet were swift and her voice loud and strong, and soon enough, there seemed to be a commotion on the boat as others began to call for the Captain to come out from his quarters and to check on his daughter’s safety.

Mielle was light and it would be easy for Kristen to pull her onto the dock. She opened her eyes, staring up at Kristen’s face. Bright eyes that matched the blue sky above them, stark against his tanned skin. Her curls were limp down and sticking to her face and neck. She coughed, water coming out as if she had purposefully swallowed a whole mouthful.

“Mielle!” Captain Carrera was there a moment later, somehow despite his large stature he was quick on his feet and could run faster than the wind if the life of his youngest daughter depended on it. Everleigh was close by, as was Danca and Anvie. They all looked shock, except for Everleigh who mimicked Kristen’s form by laying stomach down and extended a hand to Zinnia to get her out of the water.

Her arms were not nearly as long as Kristen’s.

Mielle continue to cough, even as Captain Carrera lifted Mielle up and onto her feet, half-ready to lay her on her back so he could pinch her nose and begin mouth-to-mouth. But she looked at him with those eyes and coughed some more, right into her father’s face. Spittle was over his nose and cheeks, droplets could be seen in his wiry beard, and yet all he did was stare at her.

He looked over to Kristen first, then to Zinnia as she was pulled up onto the dock.

“Thank you.” It was all he could say. “Thank you. I….” The captain looked back at Mielle and pulled her close into a tight hug. Mielle just coughed feebly.

“I told her not to. I told her it was too high.” Anvie said quietly, looking down at the weathered wood, palms and fingers locking and unlocking from each other as she nervously bit her lower lip.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Danca asked. Anvie shrugged and shook her head. She didn’t know and couldn’t form how she felt into words.

“She can’t swim?” Everleigh turned her head away from the Captain and Mielle to look at Danca. He was frowning, unsure how to address Anvie’s silence.

“I can.” Mielle said. “But something had my leg.” She was released from her father’s embrace as he looked at with a question they all shared. Then all eyes were on Zinnia. “It stopped when she came.”

“Seaweed?” Danca offered. Mielle shook her head. “Maybe old rope?”

“She’s making it up. She’s always imagining things.” Anvie muttered. Captain Carrera got up to shoot his eldest daughter a look. She went back to looking at her feet, quiet once more.

“Never mind that,” he patted Mielle’s wet head. “You two saved my daughter. I’m grateful and in your debt.” He seemed to have collected himself now. He looked back at the ship. There was work that had to be done. And he couldn’t quite rely on Danca, that slacker. “Mielle and Anvie, why not bring the nice women to your mother and tell her what happened for me, would you?” He looked back at the Anirians. “I’m sure she has a better idea to thank you than I do.”

Mielle seemed ecstatic by the thought, already passed the fact that she could have died. Anvie was still pensive. Each girl would go to one of the initiates, Mielle taking their hand while Anvie would walk only a step ahead and constantly look back and up at their face.

Kristen Pirian Zinnia