Fangril falling into the middle of the ship didn't fling Geryon into the air like being on the light end of a seesaw; the captain's quarters had collapsed on him. Pinned underneath the destroyed structure, he sank lower and lower into the dark abyss of the sea.

Geryon struggled to get himself free—at one point, he felt he had loosened himself—but his continuous descent made it harder to see, his imprisoned breath was depleting, and the pressure of the deep crowded in on him, pressing harder on all sides of his head. With water surrounding him—and the fact that Water was his elemental opposite—he couldn't draw on Fire to help; not even materializing his black sword.

But he didn't stop pulling; if he was going to die, he would die knowing he wasn't trapped.

His tight chest suddenly filled with air, like he had sucked in a bubble of oxygen, and the pressure squeezing his head vanished into the deep; he looked up to find Renuo swimming down toward him, the trident in his hand not hindering his descent.

The fisherman stopped beside him, considered Geryon's predicament for a quick second, then wrapped his free hand around the shaft of his trident and set to stabbing the wood pinning him down. Geryon felt the weight lightening, and he tugged harder, renewed at the fresh supply of air in his lungs.

At a hard tug, he became free from his entrapment. Both pushed off the sinking ship to propel upward. The surrounding darkness lightened as they ascended and they gradually warmed. Even though he had sunk a long way, Geryon could remain underwater with the endless amount of air stored in his lungs.

They broke through the surface to a series of relieved breaths and calls of their names. Zelenia floated on some debris and kicked over.

"Are you hurt, Geryon?" Worry creased her face, and her eyes trembled with fear of him injured.

"I'm fine." He glanced around at the familiar faces and even some passengers and sailors. But his eyes landed on the beautifully concerned face turned toward him. Aeris smiled in relief at the sight of his condition. Even Heela, clinging on to the piece of debris they shared, looked relieved to see him resurface.

"That island is of Volentia; it is only five miles away," Tegen's deep voice rumbled across the waters, and now everyone turned to the speck of an island.

Some surviving passengers groaned at the distance they would have to swim and others about seeking refuge on the dark island but didn't hesitate to join in on the slow swim, preferring firm land with gypsies rather than being adrift on the dark and unknown waters hiding Fangril.

***

The sun neared setting when the survivors of the shipwreck crawled onto the shore of Volentia. Some had strength enough to walk further up onto the sandy beach before collapsing, unlike others that gave out as soon as they touched the shoreline, ignoring the continuous waves pushing in and out on them.

Geryon was one of the three that walked further up onto the shore and remained on their feet to look around; Helian and Tegen were the other two. He wanted to fall like all the others, but he would never willingly show exhaustion, only by passing out would it be seen.

Zelenia maneuvered around the survivors littering the shoreline, providing healing if needed; waist-deep in the water, Renuo pushed away debris before it could hurt anyone, and Aeris helped others out of the water. Kalisa sat beside a stricken Heela, providing comfort, and watching the others to see if they needed help.

The beach was strictly sand and rocks, no foliage. He could easily start a fire with the water-logged debris, but this would be the worst place to be stranded on and hope to survive for a normal person.

Helian called Kalisa over. "Take Tegen and try to find locals. Ask for shelter, but don't go too far; we'll make our own if we have to."

When boulders blocked the view of them, Helian turned to Geryon. "Let's get a fire going."

They set to gathering debris and piling it in a circle of stones when Renuo called Zelenia, as he hauled another body out of the water. She directed him off to the side away from the others to lay the victim among the other dead. This now counted thirteen.

"Complaining about losing my guitar would sound pretty selfish, wouldn't it?" Heela whispered to Aeris.

She gave him a small, musical chuckle. "Not to me, it wouldn't. Thinking about your lost guitar keeps me from dwelling on the losses." She squeezed his shoulder in thanks. "We'll get you another guitar soon."

Geryon turned his attention back to starting the fire. He couldn't just say that her voice or laughter was musical—everything about her was. The simplest way she moved flowed in time with a gentle beat. And when she sang...

The teepee of debris ignited suddenly in a roaring flame. Those waiting in expectation of a fire jumped back in surprise, but he scowled at it. He hadn't meant to make it flare—he had meant to start with a spark and make it gradually grow; not an explosion.

"You'll control it soon," Helian said beside him.

Geryon's eyes cut down at him. "I have control."

The Sun raised his hands in defense as he backed away. "I meant better control."

He watched the youth head toward Zelenia, then turned back to watch his fire. The survivors gathered back around it, confident the flames wouldn't flare again, and others were ensnared by its comforting light and warmth.

But Helian was right that he needed better control over his element—not that he would ever admit it. Only when he began thinking about Aeris did fire become harder to control, but he did still have a hold on it. The fire flickered.

Unwanted, the song she and Heela sang drifted to him. She at first didn't sing, but then became lost in the tune and joined in. Aeris had looked surprised that she had sung and was also embarrassed at doing so. But her voice was absolutely beautiful and hypnotizing; what could she be ashamed of? He had been snared by her luring voice—a blend of both high, clear, pure, and deeper, lower, huskier tones—and he hadn't been the only one. He had stopped himself from letting his feet take control, but everyone that had gathered around them didn't have that much restraint.

The flames increased in height, but he didn't see, lost in his mind. Geryon had never heard such an angelic voice before, and the way a complete relaxation washed over her features made him want to feel the same. He had wanted to get closer and sit before her like the others. He imagined her singing only to him, lulling him to sleep with a soft lulla—

The fire blew up into the sky, scaring those huddled around it again, and receiving some glares from some that suspected his involvement. Geryon turned away from the fire so it could die down again to a safe burning. Thoughts of her were dangerous.

Heela sat near the fire, his back to the darkening sea and face fully lit by the glow, so he didn't see Aeris speaking with Renuo, heads close to one another. A sudden stab of jealousy caused another flare-up of the flames, jerking Heela back in fear, but it calmed when she turned with a smile brightening her face and a large dark object in her hands.

She walked up behind Heela and called his name. Heela turned and yelped in joy as he jumped to his feet to take his guitar from her hands.

"Renuo found it," she said.

He marveled at it like he had never seen such an instrument. "How is it not heavy with water? It feels like it has never been wet."

"He absorbed the water out of it."

Heela threw his arms around her neck, then hurried off to show Renuo his thanks. She laughed when Heela tackled the fisherman, almost knocking them both into the water. Turning, she found Geryon watching her. Aeris kept his leveled gaze, not trying to back down from it in embarrassment or to force him to look away. Even with their distance, the air sizzled like electricity, and the fire heated in intensity behind him again.

Kalisa's and Tegen's return with an extremely pale man and woman in tow broke their attention and soothed the flames as they turned away. Clearly gypsies, with their vibrant and loose clothing, but the man and woman truly looked concerned for the survivors rather than usually being uncaring.

Kalisa moved over to talk with Zelenia and Helian, then the young Sun turned to everyone. "They're offering us a place for the night further inshore. There's a ferry to take us to Elemonsina in the morning, but if you're more comfortable out here, you are fine to stay."

Most of the passengers hesitated and spoke with others, while most moved around the fire, waiting to be led toward better safety. Discussions didn't last long before they joined the rest of the group, ready to go.

"Geryon, if you would..." Helian began, but he had already focused on the fire to die out.

"Never mind." Helian turned back to join Zelenia, Tegen, Kalisa, and the two gypsies in the lead. Geryon brought up the rear with Renuo, and their passage was soon only footprints, the charred wood of a fire, fresh graves, and debris periodically washing up on shore.

***

Halys was like most cities of Volentia: isolated within the belly of a mountain and an enormous city a mixture of makeshift homes piled on top of one another combined with others honed into the mountain and vibrantly colored tents and wagons. Multiple fires within circles of wagons or close homes lit the cavernous city, music flowed with people dancing, and children played everywhere.

The man and woman Kalisa and Tegen had found led the survivors of the shipwreck to the only area not entirely occupied by dancing or visiting gypsies, close enough to share their campfires, but with enough distance to give privacy.

Once the survivors gathered in their designated area, the neighboring gypsies came over bearing food and drier clothes without any encouragement to do so. The gypsies' arrival tensed the passengers, but their willingness to cook and openness eased everyone out of tension.

In the past quests of the Elementals, Geryon had never been forced to meet the peoples of Volentia, nor had he visited one of their cities. He had always heard they were closed-off to outsiders, not really wanting visitors, and preferred their own company. They were thieves, scoundrels, and scum; never accepted anywhere for how they couldn't be trusted. These people were warm and welcoming, but that did nothing to soothe Geryon; if everybody would drop their guard, he wouldn't. Masks were easy to put on.

After getting his own helping of whatever-flavor goulash the gypsies had made for them, he found a spot discreetly away from the rest, but still close enough to be seen. As he began to eat—while keeping an eye on the gypsies surrounding them and dispersed throughout the eating passengers—Renuo found him sitting by himself, and they were soon joined by the equally silent Tegen. Geryon felt irritation at the arrival of Renuo, mainly from their opposing Elements, but also because of his disbelief in himself.

The three ate in silence, then watched as the gypsies began to play music for their guests. Stringed instruments strummed, tinkling began as a few twirling women shook tambourines, and someone banged a steady beat on a drum.

The guests fell into clapping to the beat, but the gypsies weren't satisfied with so many sitting. They encouraged them to join and even pulled some up into the throng of dancing bodies around the fires. Once most of the passengers satisfied their hunger, they forgot their suspicions and danced.

Far across from him, Heela strummed his guitar with the musicians, but he didn't see Aeris near them, lending her voice. Even though only music, Geryon thought her singing would have improved it. No one demanding her disappointed him; he would love to hear her again.

Renuo must have been thinking along the same lines. "I wish Aeris would go sing again. I've never heard a voice like hers before. It's a wonder some high entertainment industry has not snagged her."

"She prefers to stay out of the spotlight," Tegen stated. He had seen precisely what Geryon had seen on the boat.

"But with a voice like hers, I can only wonder why. How can she be embarrassed about it?"

"Maybe it brings up bad memories." Tegen then stood and walked off, probably in search of Zelenia and Helian.

The fisherman fell silent as he watched the dancers change in their individual routines and were now links of arms dancing together like rippling waters. After a while, he turned to Geryon. "What do you think?"

He didn't answer right away, for he honestly didn't have an idea, but what Tegen said had a ring of truth in it. And that seemed like the only possible reason why someone would hide a talent like hers.

"Perhaps what Tegen thought."

Renuo turned back to watch the dancers. "I wonder what it is."

"Everyone is entitled to secrets."

"But I don't particularly like secrets; if it's not harmful, there's no need to hide it." Renuo stood to go.

"Renuo," Geryon began; he looked down at him. "I haven't thanked you for saving my life."

The fisherman looked shocked—Geryon showing gratitude probably surprised him. He wasn't one to show emotion, and Renuo had picked up on it. The Water Elemental wasn't as oblivious as he appeared. "There's no need to. You would've gotten free on your own; I just made it quicker. I'm pretty sure you'll help me if I get in trouble, but just don't prove me wrong."

A corner of his mouth twisted into a small smirk. "I come when I'm needed, always will." His words re-stirred a memory: in the direst situation, though, he hadn't. He hoped he had looked away before the fisherman could see it.

"Good to know you're reliable."

Geryon skewered Renuo's doubt, making the insecure man jolt in guilt. "You were the only one able to reach me in time. Your release of the pressure and supply of air is what saved me, not your trident. Your affinity with Water is to praise; you can't doubt your connection any longer after today."

He scratched his head in discomfort. "I didn't think of it like that." His sea-green eyes shot to Geryon. "But that doesn't make me reliable."

"Not until you believe you are."

His doubting eyes couldn't hold Geryon's leveled gaze for long. Still deliberating on his words, Renuo turned away, but then something struck him, and he turned back around. "What you said about the 'supply of air', I don't think I did that." He gave an apologetic shrug as he backed away. "I'm not the Elemental for Air."

Geryon watched the fisherman disappear into the dancing crowd, then began his search for Aeris among those sitting. He had watched for her in the dancers, and not finding her meant she was watching. He found her sitting by herself since Heela ran off to play with the musicians and headed for her.

The gypsies had provided a multicolored quilt for her to sit on; her long legs were stretched out and crossed at the ankles, and arms supporting her up from behind. She looked comfortable among these people. Her silver eyes switched from watching the dancing crowd with longing to checking up on Heela with a smile playing on her lips.

His approach caught her attention, and she watched curiously at his destination being her.

He stopped before her and found his mouth dry of words. "May I join you?"

Aeris considered him for a moment, before looking down to see if there was room on the quilt beside her. "Sure."

He eased down beside the woman and pretended to watch the dancers, so the silence or the energetic tension in the air around them wasn't as noticeable. Geryon planned to keep from meeting her eyes—that seemed to be when the space between them would electrify, wanting to seal them together.

He finally found words to begin. "I honestly expected you to be out there."

"And why is that?"

He felt her eyes on him; he refrained from turning, but his body taut with the tension had him doubtful of how long he could last. "Your movements suggest a dancer."

She didn't reply for the longest, and continued to stare him down—willing him to turn and explain himself. "What do you mean?" Her whisper trembled.

Geryon hoped she wouldn't take what he said as a confession of watching her—he couldn't stop watching her! Maybe she'd accept it as being a fact of watching everyone... but none more so than her. "As you walk, you look like you're gliding, letting the wind guide you; lithe and light, like you're dancing with the air."

With a barely audible sigh—of relief?—her eyes slid off him. "It seems my past still haunts my steps... literally."

His sigh of relief was just as quiet as hers. "So, you were a dancer?"

Again, Aeris didn't answer right away. But he caught the movement of a nod out of the corner of his eye. "I once was."

Her voice dropped, for he had reached a subject she wasn't willing to discuss. A man's past is his own ghosts, he thought. He wouldn't prod deeper, even though he wished to. Geryon would surely not delve into his past, even if his life depended on it, so he expected her to be the same.

He let out another sigh: thanking another for assistance was even harder than the first time. "I came to thank you for supplying air as I was under."

Her eyes pressed down on him again. "It... worked?"

Geryon gave in to the presence of her gaze and turned, curious at the disbelief thick in her voice and enlightened pleasure on her face.

"You didn't expect it to?"

"No, not that; I just didn't know that it had. I tried sending air to Heela before he went underwater, but I don't think it worked, or he just didn't notice from being too panicked." Aeris glanced over at the young man playing his guitar before turning back to him. "As soon as Renuo said you were trapped, I thought nothing but of sending air to you."

She smiled at him—not the quick twitch of the lips she did for a forced smile; Aeris actually smiled, for it reached her silver eyes, usually cloudy but were now clear, sharp, and hypnotizing. He couldn't imagine her becoming more gorgeous, but just as mist hovering around mountains or fog gliding over lakes was beautiful, a completely clear day was more so. "I'm glad that I could help."

She looked back to the dancers with a quick chuckle—the upbeat and joyous song the gypsies and Heela were playing failed to compare to the soft tinkling of her laugh. "Also helps my morale, knowing I have some hold on Air; it usually just slips out of my fingers and doesn't help at all."

Geryon chuckled with her—the other Air Elementals had complained about the same thing—but he hated that he had laughed: the deep rumble sounded loud, harsh, and overpowering. "At least you have a hold; Fire has a mind of its own, controlled by my temper, which is always... unsettled; always simmering, and ready to explode like an active volcano."

"But it sounds like Fire is a constant presence to you; Air comes and goes as it pleases. I have it, yet I don't fully have it. I know I am an Elemental, but it feels like something is preventing me from having full control. The thing is, I don't have a clue on what it could be."

Hearing a quiver in her voice surprised him—a lie hid in her words, long-grown comfortable at her refusal to banish it for good. She had a notion of what it could be, but it lay in that past she avoided.

"Does Heela help?"

Aeris smiled again as she looked over at her companion. "He does; I never realized how much he did until I knew what I was. He has kept me steady and on track when I would rather run and roam. He keeps me... grounded. I never knew that I needed someone to keep me connected; I thought I could just cut all ties and drift away—" She abruptly cut herself off, saying more than she intended.

To give her time to calm down, he turned the conversation off her. "We know what we are and have the most trouble, then there's Renuo, who seems to have the most control over his Element, yet he is the most doubtful of who he is."

It was enough for she chuckled. "What a paradox." She looked at him. "Were the others like this?"

He didn't like to mention them; even though he thought about his past failures all the time, talking about them refreshed the memories he wished he could forget. Aeris waited for his reply. "It's still too early to say, but yes, more or less. Each time was different, so I expect the same."

Like usual, when someone asked him about the past Elementals, they heard the undertone that it wasn't an open subject, so they dropped the questions. Aeris turned back to watch Heela.

The air grew quiet between them, but it wasn't stilted and uncomfortable. He noticed most of the survivors had drifted off to wrap up in blankets and sleep. Geryon felt the length and strain of the day wearing down on him, too; Aeris stifled a yawn with a slender hand.

Seeing Heela headed over to them, Geryon decided it was time to go. He rose, then looked at her. "I just wanted to thank you for what you did."

Aeris smiled at him. "I wasn't going to let you drown, but you're welcome, and thanks for telling me it worked."

He returned the smile as their eyes locked again—he wasn't imagining the connection between them. Nothing had ever seized him so fiercely before and made him feel so weak.

To save them both, he broke the connection by turning his eyes down. "Goodnight, Aeris."

"Goodnight, Geryon."

He turned away before he could be tempted to look at her again and do what he longed to do: kiss her goodnight. He replied likewise to Heela's goodnight as they passed. Geryon doubted he would be able to sleep much.